Bonds of Brotherhood
by Scrawlers
Summary: After Luke's "kidnapping," he forgot everything, leaving it to Guy to start from scratch and raise Luke from the ground up. But you can't raise a kid without bonds being formed, and sometimes that blurs the line between servitude and brotherhood.
1. The Rescue

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Tales of the Abyss, the brotherly fluff would be more prominent -- kind of like what would have happened with oyako in Tales of Symphonia if I owned that.

**Authors' Note: **I'm not sure how far I'll take this, but to satisfy my craving for some seriously brotherly Guy and Luke interaction, I'm starting this little series of brotherly moments between them, starting from when Luke was "born" and found at Choral Castle, and going until . . . well, possibly even into when the game starts, though this is mainly to show how Luke started from being born a replica -- basically being a baby even though he looked ten, all sweet and innocent and whatnot -- to being the selfish, spoiled brat that we first meet at the beginning of the game. I'll never go out of age-order, though I may skip several years between chapters.

It's probably obvious, and I know that I state Luke's age in this, but nonetheless Luke is ten and Guy is, therefore, fourteen.

**Edit: **Fixed the ending, so it's not going against canon so much anymore. For those of you who saw it before, sorry about that!

If you read, please review!

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Bonds of Brotherhood

**One: The Rescue**

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Guy didn't know why he'd insisted on coming along.

It wasn't like he liked Luke very much. Sure, he understood why the kid was so distant and cold all the time -- Duke Fabre was a bastard, and in his typical bastard fashion he separated himself from Luke constantly. And when he wasn't distancing himself he was insulting Luke, criticizing him constantly on how he could act better, look better, _be _better. But even so, Luke _was _cold and distant himself, only ever really open with Natalia, and even though Guy was assigned to be Luke's personal servant and to take care of him no-matter-what, Guy didn't particularly care to. Thing was, even if Guy understood Luke's reasons for wanting to emulate his father's stone-cold bastard nature, it didn't mean that he had to like the kid for who he was.

So he didn't really know why he'd insisted on going on the rescue mission to look for Luke at Choral Castle, just that he had and that was why he was there, roaming by himself, looking for a mop of red hair on a scrawny ten-year-old body. Guy sincerely doubted he'd find Luke on his own, but the rescue party of guards and knights was a little much to handle at the moment, especially since they reminded Guy of the guards that used to surround House Gardios -- the ones who'd be looking for _him _if _he'd _been the one to go missing.

Guy tried not to think about it too much. _Just look for the kid, and listen for calls if he's found somewhere else, which he probably will be, _Guy thought as he pushed open a door leading to another vacant room._ It's not like you've ever been particularly lucky any-- _Guy froze, his eyes widening at the sight of a small, red-headed form curled up in a corner, knees drawn up to his chest and a head rested upon them. _Or not._

"Luke?" Guy called. There was something about the way the kid was curled up into a little ball that made Guy hesitant to just walk over or to shout for the guards. Looking closer, Guy could see that Luke was shaking, and with how pathetic the kid looked Guy couldn't help but feel pity. Poor kid was probably terrified. For all his coldness, Luke was only ten, and being kidnapped and then abandoned at Choral Castle was probably more than his faux tough exterior could handle. "Hey, Luke, it's just me. You okay over there?"

Luke tensed before his head snapped up, wide green eyes focused on Guy. There was something in those green eyes that made Guy stop dead in his tracks, and though it took him a moment, he was able to place exactly what it was. Fear -- true fear. It wasn't fear masked by a tough façade, or fear fueled by anger. He was genuinely afraid, and that was showing in his eyes clear as day.

"Hey," Guy said, lowering his voice and crouching lower to the ground so that he was more on Luke's level. He was close enough now to reach out slowly, to put one hand on Luke's arm -- an arm that was still wrapped tightly around his knees, as if he was afraid that if he uncurled he'd be hurt. "It's okay. No reason to be afraid anymore, okay? It's me -- Guy. You remember me, right?"

Luke's stare showed absolutely no hint of recognition, but Guy could see that the fear _was _fading into something else -- and this time, Guy couldn't exactly place the emotion there. But as Luke relaxed, the corners of his lips began to tilt upward a little into a smile, though his eyes looked a little unsure beneath the other, unnamed emotion, as if he wasn't sure if he was supposed to smile or not.

It was at that moment that the door was shoved open with enough force to knock it back against the wall, and Luke jumped at least a foot in the air, letting out a squeak of fear. Without really thinking Guy was on his feet, spinning so that his back was protecting Luke, one hand on his sword hilt. He relaxed when he saw that it was the guards, and held up both hands in defense.

"My apologies, gentlemen. I thought you might be a threat."

"Did you find him?" one of the guards asked, disregarding Guy's apology entirely. Guy wasn't really surprised.

"Yeah," he said, stepping aside in an attempt to show them Luke -- an attempt that turned out being futile. Luke had moved to his knees, and quickly reached out to grab Guy's legs, using Guy to shield himself from the guards. "Luke, what are you doing?" Guy twisted back in time to see Luke shake his head, his big, green, puppy-dog eyes (since when did Luke have puppy-dog eyes?) aimed straight up at Guy.

It was then that Guy recognized the emotion he'd seen before. _Trust._ Luke _trusted_ Guy.

"Is he all right?" a different guard asked, sounding unsure. "He seems to be acting . . . strange."

"I think he's just scared because of whatever happened here. He doesn't appear to be hurt." Guy carefully extracted his legs from Luke's hold before crouching down before the boy again, looking him straight in the eye. Every now and then, Luke's eyes would dart over Guy's shoulder to look at the guards, looking fearful for that instant, yet would then return to lock with Guy's own blue irises with complete and total trust. "Hey, Luke, you ready to go home now?" Luke's stare was as uncomprehending as ever, and Guy sighed a little, nodding once. "I'm going to take your silence as a yes. Think you can walk?" Another blank stare, and Guy decided that -- at the current moment -- it'd be best not to try Luke too much. He'd just been rescued from a kidnapping, after all; it'd be okay to take it easy on him for a little while. "All right, then, no walking. How about I give you a piggyback ride instead?"

"Are you sure about that?" Guy rolled his eyes at the guards, figuring he was safe since the guard couldn't see the action. "Perhaps one of us should -- "

"He's terrified of you right now," Guy pointed out, turning so that his back was to Luke. When Luke didn't climb on, Guy reached behind him and gently took Luke's small hands, pulling Luke's arms loosely around his own neck. "It's best not to scare him, don't you agree?" When Luke was holding on to Guy's neck, Guy reached back to loop his arms under Luke's legs, effectively pulling the kid onto his back before standing up. Luke gasped in Guy's ear, and Guy chuckled, grinning as he turned his head slightly to lock eyes with Luke again. "It's okay, Luke," he said. "You're safe. I've gotcha." Luke nodded and placed his forehead against Guy's shoulder, his arms still wrapped securely -- but not painfully -- around Guy's neck. With one nod toward the guards, Guy shifted his hold on Luke only minutely so that it was more comfortable, and then led the way out of Choral Castle.

* * *

During the coach ride, Luke stayed right up against Guy's side, never moving. And once they returned to Baticul, Luke refused to get out of the carriage unless he was riding on Guy's back again, holding on tightly and burying his face in Guy's shoulder. It wasn't a problem as far as Guy was concerned until they returned to the manor, and it was time for Luke to see his parents. When Guy tried to set him down, Luke held on, and refused to look at Susanne or Duke Fabre.

"What's the matter with him?" Duke Fabre demanded, his voice rough and none too friendly. It was only because of years of practice that Guy managed to keep his tone polite and his expression scowl free.

"I'm not sure, Your Grace. He's been like this ever since we found him. He refuses to say a word." _But with how angry you seem it doesn't surprise me that you're scaring him even more._

"Luke?" Susanne stepped closer to Guy, who took a step back in response. Susanne threw Guy a look of mingled apology and irritation before returning her attention to the boy on Guy's back. "Luke, please look at me, sweetheart. Everything's okay. You're home now."

Luke didn't move -- didn't lift his head from Guy's shoulder at all. Guy had no idea what was going on -- Luke's actions seemed to go far beyond pure fear -- but he felt bad for Susanne, who looked honestly hurt at Luke's rejection. However, his sympathies didn't extend toward Duke Fabre at all, who seemed more offended than hurt at Luke's behavior.

"Put him down," Duke Fabre barked. "The boy can stand on his own two feet."

"Yes, Your Grace." Guy slowly lowered himself to a crouching position, and released Luke's legs to reach up and try to pry Luke's arms from around his neck. "Come on, Luke," he coaxed. "You want to see your Mother and Father, don't you?" Guy felt Luke shake his head against the base of his neck and he swallowed, looking up to Susanne with apology. "I apologize, madam. I'm not sure if it will make you feel any better, but I really do think that he's just retaining some fear from when he was kidnapped."

Susanne nodded, though she didn't seem mollified by Guy's words at all. "Perhaps he should see a doctor," she murmured, and then nodded once. "Yes, he should probably see a doctor. Luke?" Susanne reached out, and Guy tried not to flinch back due to the offered hand. "Come to Mother, Luke. Let us go see the doctor, to see if anything happened while you were away."

Guy finally managed to pry Luke's arms from around his neck, but he found that he couldn't exactly let go of Luke's hands; although Luke was standing, he was relying heavily on Guy, wobbly and uncertain on his feet. Guy furrowed his brow, looking at Luke's moderately panicked expression and trying to sort out all the facts in his head.

"Madam," he said slowly, "if I may, perhaps it would be best if I took Luke to his room, and the doctor made a house visit."

"Why? Is there something wrong with him?" Susanne's voice was drenched in worry, and she took a step closer. Guy shifted to put more distance between them, causing Luke to stumble a little.

"I'm not exactly certain, but I think that, well . . ." Guy hesitated, and then shook his head. "I'm not certain. It just might be best if Luke is somewhere where he'd feel more comfortable." Not that Guy thought that Luke would recognize his room any more than he seemed to recognize the rest of the manor, but Guy figured it was probably the best option at that point.

Duke Fabre seemed to want to disagree, but after exchanging a look with Susanne, he nodded, saying gruffly, "Take him to his room, then. The doctor will be along shortly."

"Yes, Your Grace." Guy let Luke climb onto his back again, but he'd barely taken two steps when Duke Fabre barked out another command.

"And put him _down_. You may be his servant, but that does not mean that you need to cart him around, Guy."

Guy didn't want to follow that particular order, but knowing that he had no choice, he nodded once and lowered Luke to the ground again. As soon as Guy released Luke completely, Luke wavered, and very nearly toppled over; it was only Guy reaching out to catch him that stopped him from falling completely.

"Easy there, Luke," Guy said. "I've gotcha."

"He's been through a very traumatic experience, dear," Susanne spoke up, looking over at her husband with a sternness that Guy rarely saw. "If he needs to be carried until he recuperates, then so be it. Guy, if you would? And please, wait with him until I arrive with the doctor."

"Of course, madam." Guy pulled Luke onto his back again, ignoring the way that Duke Fabre scowled at both of them as he carried Luke out of the entrance hall, and the comment that he heard Duke Fabre give to Susanne just before the door shut: _"That boy isn't supposed to be in Luke's room."_

Of course. Only the maids were allowed to enter Luke's chambers -- no other servants were permitted, despite the fact that Guy was _supposed _to look after Luke. Well, whatever Duke Fabre thought or wanted, it didn't matter -- at least, not at the current moment. Susanne had given Guy permission, and besides, it wasn't as if Luke was letting go any time soon. The younger boy nestled his head in the crook between Guy's neck and shoulder, letting out a tiny sigh.

"You've had a rough trip, haven't you?" Guy asked, but once again, Luke didn't answer. "Well, it's over now. You've got nothing to worry about. It's all smooth sailing from here." Though somehow, Guy doubted his words. After all, if his hunch was correct, Luke was going to have a very rough time ahead of him, especially with how demanding Duke Fabre was regarding every aspect of Luke's life.

Guy removed one arm briefly from under one of Luke's legs to open Luke's bedroom door, and thereafter walked in to set Luke on his bed. This time, Luke willingly let go of Guy, sitting back on his bed and looking about the entire room with wide eyes. Just as he had with everything leading up to that point, Luke looked around him with absolutely no recognition, and touched his soft bed covers gently, as if in wonder.

"You really don't remember anything about this place, do you?" Guy asked quietly, but Luke merely looked at him, frowning a little bit in concentration. Guy frowned in response. "And even though I really don't want to assume this, I'd even go so far as to say that maybe you don't even remember how to ta - "

A knock on Luke's open door drew Guy's attention away from Luke, and he bowed politely in the presence of the doctor and Susanne, who hovered just behind the doctor with an anxious look on her face. "Well then, now that you're here, I suppose I will take my leave," Guy said, his eyes flickering between Susanne and the opposite side of the doorframe. He wasn't sure if he could squeeze by without touching her, but he thought that if he flattened himself against the doorframe, he might just have a chance. But as he walked toward the door, planning to put his plan into action, a strangled cry from Luke stopped him:

"No! Guy!"

Guy stopped, turning slowly back to look at Luke. Maybe the kid hadn't forgotten how to speak after all. "Luke? You have to have a check-up with the doctor now."

"Guy." Or perhaps he had, because although Luke opened his mouth to say more, he didn't seem to be able to. Instead, he looked at Guy with puppy-dog eyes that looked as if they were on the verge of filling with tears, absolute panic written all over his face. It was an expression that was so unlike the Luke that Guy remembered that it left Guy baffled, but nonetheless feeling like Luke had clutched Guy's heart in his fist and was tightly yanking on the strings. Guy looked briefly over at Susanne with a helpless expression, and then looked back at Luke. "No, Guy."

"Luke, I can't stay here. I'm not allowed." No matter what he said, the pleading expression didn't leave Luke's face -- and, as if to drive the point home just how terrified he was, Luke's lower lip began to tremble. "Luke . . ."

"Guy, it's all right." Guy looked back to Susanne, who looked distinctly troubled, but nonetheless sincere. "If Luke truly wants your presence, then you can stay this once. Just please try not to get in the doctor's way."

"I would never dream of it, milady." Guy gave Susanne another sweeping bow before turning back to the bed, walking over to sit down beside Luke. "Okay, Luke? I'm staying. It's going to be all right." Luke nodded once, wiping at his eyes, but looking up at Guy with a watery smile. Forget baffled; Guy was completely and utterly bewildered by Luke's behavior. He was acting more like a toddler than a ten-year-old kid, and certainly more emotional and sensitive than the Luke Guy had spent the past nine years knowing. It was as if he'd had a complete and total personality transplant along with the kidnapping.

_Well, whatever happened, I think I might like him better this way, _Guy thought, putting one hand on Luke's shoulder as the kid recoiled into him, away from the doctor. _I don't know him very well yet, but I already like him if he doesn't have a massive chip on his shoulder all the time._

"All right, Luke," the doctor said gently, giving Luke his best smile. Guy looked down, and saw that Luke didn't return it. "We're going to start with some very basic questions . . ."

* * *

In the end, it was decided that Luke had amnesia, likely due to the traumatic events of the kidnapping. And it wasn't normal amnesia, where he only forgot his name and place of origin; no, it was most likely complete amnesia, causing him to forget how to walk and talk and function as a normal human being.

Of course, Susanne was an absolute mess of worry and sympathy for Luke, though her illness prevented her from sticking around long enough to really help Luke with anything. Duke Fabre, as per usual, didn't seem to care beyond how it would make Luke look in the face of the Kingdom of Kimlasca. And while all of the rest of the servants, Pere included, felt sorry for Luke, it wasn't as if any of them were going to spend the time around a ten-year-old who acted more like he was two instead of ten. They had their own chores and duties to attend to -- their own tasks.

But Guy's primary job was to babysit Luke. He was there to keep Luke entertained when Luke wasn't studying or participating in court. Teaching Luke was now _his _job, even if no one had given him the task specifically, especially since the nurse who had originally raised Luke was no longer at the manor, having been dismissed by Duke Fabre long ago. If Luke didn't remember how to talk, well, Guy had to teach him. And if he didn't remember how to walk, well, Guy had to teach him that, too. Luke was virtually a blank-slate now, more of a newborn child than one who was almost a teenager, and it fell to Guy to fill in that blank-slate as best he could.

"Okay, Luke, easy does it," Guy said, taking Luke's hands and gently pulling him off his bed. Luke wavered, but when Guy let go of his hands, he managed to stand upright. "See?" Guy said, grinning broadly. "Standing up's half the battle. You're already halfway to walking!"

Luke returned the smile, though his smile was a bit sheepish. "Really?" He'd been picking up on little words here and there -- remarkably fast, as far as Guy was concerned, but perhaps that was just his memory coming back to him.

"Yeah," Guy said, and reached out to grasp Luke's upper arm gently, balancing him. "Now, just pick up your left foot, and put it in front of you . . ." He showed Luke how to do it first, and then watched as Luke cautiously repeated the action. "That's it, Luke. You're getting it."

It was funny, in a way, how he was helping the kid he'd hated just a few weeks prior -- a kid he maybe still did hate, if he took a moment to himself and thought back on the destruction of Hod. But when Guy looked at the pride in Luke's green eyes, or the innocent smile that tugged on his lips when he realized he was walking, he found that it was hard to think of ruined villages and murdered families -- downright difficult to think of plans of revenge. No, it was much easier to push that aside for the moment, and instead focus on the ten-year-old that was just learning how to walk.

Guy had work to do.


	2. Words of Wisdom

**Authors' Note**: I haven't skipped ahead in ages just yet. Luke is still ten here, and Guy is still fourteen. Oh, and I went ahead and re-wrote part of the ending of the last one, due to the fact that it _did _contain a rather glaring canonical error on my part -- whoops! That's what I get for not passing it by the beta first, haha. Hopefully it won't happen again. :) Thanks for pointing it out, Keltena!

Please review!

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Bonds of Brotherhood

**Two: Words of Wisdom**

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In the first couple of weeks after he'd returned to the manor, Luke and Guy had been virtually inseparable due to Luke's dependence on his personal manservant. It was Guy's job to teach him how to walk again, how to talk again, how to dress himself again. It was Guy's job to bathe him (Luke refused to let the other manservants get close, positively howling for Guy until Guy had had no other choice but to respond), Guy's job to feed him -- Guy's job to do _everything _for him, because Luke had amnesia and couldn't remember how to do so himself.

And, in truth, Guy hadn't really minded all that much. When he was with Luke, taking care of the kid, he found that he didn't really have time to think about his revenge or his real purpose for being in the Fabre manor. He didn't have time to think about the destruction of Hod, the way his family had been slaughtered, the way the entire _city _had been destroyed. Luke kept him much too busy, way more hyperactive than he had ever been before the kidnapping. When Guy was around Luke, taking care of him or entertaining him or making sure that he wasn't getting into too much trouble, he was able to push aside darker thoughts in favor of keeping a smile on the kid's face. It was easier that way.

But after a couple of weeks had passed, Duke Fabre had decided that Luke was well enough to return to his lessons again -- lessons of court etiquette and education despite the fact that King Ingobert had passed a decree forbidding Luke to leave the manor. Of course, Duke Fabre's true intentions were glaringly obvious. It wasn't that he thought Luke should be educated so much as it was that he just didn't want Luke spending all of his time around Guy, a _lowly servant. _If Guy had cared anything about Duke Fabre's opinion at all, he might have been insulted. As it was, he just chalked it up to what was to be expected and reminded himself that Duke Fabre would get everything he deserved later on anyway.

Or, he tried to remind himself, anyway. It wasn't until one afternoon when Luke was stuck in lessons and Guy was fiddling with a small piece of fonic technology in his room that he had his own judgment questioned by Pere, who returned to their shared room covered in soil from his gardening, his face reddened slightly from the sun.

"Ah, Master Gailardia," he said, and Guy looked up with a casual smile of acknowledgement in Pere's direction. "I must admit that I'm surprised to see you here. I thought that you would be with Master Luke."

"He's in a lesson," Guy said absently, returning to his work. The fontech was nothing special -- just a little fontech toy coach that would hopefully move on its own when it was wound, if Guy could fix it properly. "Geography, to be exact. It'll be good for him to learn for kicks, I guess, though I have to admit that I can't really see the point when he's forbidden to leave the manor."

"Indeed," Pere agreed, moving over to the wardrobe to grab a more acceptable change of clothing. "I have to say that I don't believe he'll be happy with that doctrine for very long. He isn't even allowed to see the city, is he?"

"Nope. He is to stay in the manor at all times. Makes my job easier, that's for sure."

"Which job?" Pere's question was quick, but Guy could hear the caution in it, and it caused him to look up with a slight frown.

"What do you mean, 'which job?'"

Pere seemed to hesitate again, pursing his lips, but he continued before Guy could press him. "Master Gailardia, I can't help but notice that you spend an awful lot of time around Master Luke -- caring for him, if you will."

"That is my job, Pere. If I refused to take care of him, it would look suspicious," Guy pointed out, sitting up straighter. "The last thing I need to do is anger Duke Fabre. If I refused the task I was assigned I'd be out of here faster than I could think, and then where would I be?"

"Roaming the streets of Baticul, I'd assume," Pere answered, and Guy almost rolled his eyes. "But, forgive me for my impudence, Master Gailardia, but I simply have to wonder . . ."

"Wonder what?" Guy pressed when Pere didn't finish his thought. Pere sighed.

"Master Gailardia, do you still plan on carrying out your revenge?"

"What? Of course I do." Guy's eyes hardened, his lips set into a firm line. "Duke Fabre murdered my family, Pere. I'm not going to just let him get away with it."

"Yes, yes, I know. I was there." Guy could see the pain in Pere's aged eyes, and he let some of the tension ease itself from his shoulders, forced himself to relax. It wasn't Pere's fault, and taking it out on Pere wouldn't solve anything. "However . . . Well, you originally came to this manor with the intention of killing Duke Fabre's son -- of exacting your vengeance upon Luke so that Duke Fabre would feel the same pain that you felt."

"And?" Guy prompted, though his gut was twisting in a way that told him he knew what was coming next.

"I've noticed that you spend an awful lot of time with Master Luke nowadays, Master Gailardia," Pere said gently. "You used to spend time with him, of course, before his kidnapping, yet you always seemed unhappy when you did. You used to tell me night after night about what he had done that irritated you that day, used to pressure me into letting you carry out your revenge early . . ." Seeming to sense Guy's impatience, Pere continued. "Now, however, you rarely speak of your revenge, if at all. You seem to _enjoy _the time you spend with Master Luke. You take care of him, just as Vandeldesca used to take care of you--" if Pere noticed Guy's wince, he didn't show it "--and I have to wonder if you truly intent on carrying out your revenge when you seem to be growing so close to the boy."

Guy didn't know how to respond at first. Instead, he looked back down at the little fontech coach he'd been construction, glaring hard at it for a few seconds before he knocked it away, sending it tumbling across the floor. Much as he hated to think it now, with Pere throwing his revenge back into his face, he'd been planning on maybe showing that toy to Luke later -- something to entertain him after a hard day of lessons. Now that idea seemed empty and worthless.

"It's not as if I could kill him _now_," Guy said, looking back up at Pere with barely contained frustration. "Have you seen him, Pere? He's -- he's completely -- he didn't even remember how to _walk_, much less how to _talk_. It'd be like killing a baby, and as much as I hate Duke Fabre, I couldn't do that. I couldn't kill a baby."

"So you plan to raise him and then kill him?" Pere asked, and though his expression and tone were anything but accusatory, Guy couldn't help but feel his metaphorical hackles raise.

"No -- yes -- I'll do what I need to do, Pere." Guy stood up, grabbing his sword and attaching it to his waist before heading to the door. "I'm going for a walk around the manor."

"Please be careful, Master Gailardia," Pere said, and Guy could almost hear unspoken words in Pere's tone. He chose to ignore them.

"I will."

* * *

Guy ended up out in the courtyard, standing in the very center of it, moving through some basic sword exercises. It was the only real way for him to burn off the energy he'd built up due to his conversation with Pere -- the only way for him to work through everything.

As much as Guy hated to admit it, all that Pere had said was true. It was true that Guy had originally gone to the Fabre estate with the intention of killing Luke as revenge for the massacre of his family. It was true that he had been taking care of Luke ever since Luke had returned from Choral Castle. It was true that he was growing close to Luke. And it was true (though Pere hadn't specifically said this part) that Guy was not the type of person who could turn his blade on a friend.

_Luke is _not _my friend, _Guy thought, swinging his blade before following it up with his sheath. _I'm taking care of him because it's my job. It's my job to teach him how to walk and talk since he's forgotten, since no one else has the time to. It's my job to show him how to bathe himself again, to show him how to write so he can keep up that journal . . . It's my _job _to take care of him. That's why I'm doing it._

_Ah, _said a little voice in the back of his mind, and Guy grit his teeth, _but you do more than that. You sneak him cookies from the kitchen every night as a reward for writing in his journal. You hold actual conversations with him and enjoy the responses you get. You were going to show him that fontech toy you made. You read him bedtime stories even though you're not supposed to be in his room. And, _the voice added, and Guy swore that it had a mocking tone, _you think he's a cute kid._

_I do _not_ -- ugh, why am I arguing with myself? _Guy spun, swinging his blade to create a small shockwave across the ground. He hated it admit it even more than he hated admitting the truth to Pere's statements, but the little voice of the devil's advocate in the back of his brain was right as well. Guy _did _spend a lot of time with Luke. And whether the kid was smiling or giving those damn puppy-eyes, he _was _a cute kid. Much cuter than he had been before he'd left, if it was possible, since he wasn't little Mr. Perma-Scowl any longer.

But Guy had his family to think about -- his _dead _family, since Duke Fabre _killed _them. He'd sworn on their memories that he would carry out his vengeance -- that he would make Duke Fabre pay for the slaughter of House Gardios. Why, after all, should Duke Fabre escape without any sort of punishment? The people of House Gardios were _innocent. _Guy's parents, the servants . . . Mary. They were all innocent, and it wasn't as if Guy was wrong in wanting revenge. Vandeldesca wanted it as well. If all went according to plan, then Vandeldesca would make Commandant of the Order of Lorelei soon, and from there would be able to help Guy escape punishment for carrying out his revenge against the Fabre family. Guy had everything he needed to carry out his vengeance, and he had every reason in the world to -- so why should Luke's trauma-induced amnesia prevent him from carrying it out?

As if on cue, one of the doors leading out to the courtyard crashed open with a resounding _bang_, and Guy whirled around in time to see Luke running out into the courtyard, red hair pushed back by the wind, green eyes bright with exhilaration. Behind him ran a maid, yelling at the top of her lungs for him to come back, looking up in relief when she saw Guy.

"Guy! Oh, thank goodness you're here. I had no idea where Master Luke was running off to, and after the kidnapping, we cannot afford to let him out of our sights . . ."

"I'll take him from here, Rosie," Guy said, sheathing his sword and hooking the sheath back around his waist. Luke came to a skidding stop in front of Guy, turning his bright smile straight up to meet Guy's eyes. "So you don't need to worry anymore. Replace that frown with a pretty smile, won't you?"

"Oh, Guy." Rosie blushed, giggling a little. "Are you _sure _you don't want that date? I would reward you plenty for nice words like those . . ." Rosie took a few steps forward and Guy quickly shook his head, paling at the thought of her closing the distance between them.

"No, Rosie, that's fine. Perfectly fine. I'm sure. Very sure." Rosie's lips moved into a pout, and she sighed.

"Fine, fine. But if you ever change your mind . . ." Rosie winked and -- before Guy could say anything that could potentially damn him further -- turned to head back into the manor. That left Guy to look down at Luke, who was still grinning as if he'd just accomplished something truly worthwhile. Guy didn't know why, but when he looked down and saw that proud grin, he found himself frowning.

"Why did you run away from her, Luke?"

"Lessons are boring," Luke said, shrugging as if such information was obvious. "And when they were done I was s'posed to go to my room to do work, but that's boring too and I wanted to play with you." Luke's grin returned full-force, shining brighter than the fonbelt, but Guy still couldn't find it in himself to smile back. "So, let's play, Guy!"

In a way, Luke was still acting wildly different than he had been before the kidnapping, aside from the immaturity. The old Luke was immensely responsible, completing all of his lessonwork early or on time, and making sure that it was absolutely perfect. It was anal retentiveness that was annoying in the best of times, but that was admirable if one chose to forget that the reason he was like that was because Duke Fabre wouldn't accept anything less. This sort of irresponsibility was something that would never fly, and was likely only flying _now _either because Duke Fabre didn't know yet or Susanne was holding Duke Fabre at bay. If the latter was the case, then Guy was positive that it wouldn't last for long.

But in another way, he was acting exactly as he had before the kidnapping. The old Luke had been responsible, but he'd also been cold and didn't really care for the state of the servants in the manor. Sure, he cared about Baticul -- Guy couldn't count the number of times he heard Luke and Natalia discussing how to better the states of the people of Kimlasca -- but about the servants themselves? Luke had always regarded them with indifference and coldness, treating them as _servants _rather than _people_. With the way Luke had run away from Rosie, potentially getting her in trouble, it was the same sort of indifferent behavior that he'd always shown before.

And that, in conjunction with the reminder of his revenge, irritated Guy more than just a little.

"With all due respect, _Master _Luke," Guy began, his tone clipped, "you _should _be doing your homework." Luke's smile faded slowly, and he gave Guy a quizzical look.

"Are you mad?"

It was such a simple question, but at the moment Guy felt that it was anything but. "No, of course not. Why would I be mad? You only just risked Rosie's job. Do you have any idea how much trouble she could have been in?"

"I just wanted to see you," Luke protested, his bottom lip jutting out a little. Guy was not about to fall for the pitiable expression again, however, especially as Luke seemed to lose concentration for a moment, reaching up to rub at his ear.

"Well, you can't always do what you want. Your lessons are important, Luke. Education is important, and geography is just as important as the reading lessons I gave you." Well, that was a slight lie -- being literate was a little more important than knowing which direction was north -- but Guy's temper was flaring. Luke was even starting to ignore _him_, using the same arrogance that Duke Fabre had. "Cute kid" -- what a joke. Luke was going to turn out just like his father, and there was no reason why Guy shouldn't exact his vengeance. None at all. "Not only that, but you can't get others in trouble just because _you _want something. That isn't right. You have to think about others instead of just yourself -- others like Rosie. Hey," Guy raised his voice a little, glaring at Luke, "are you even listening to me?"

"I -- ow!" Luke had been rubbing at his ear, his brow furrowed in concentration, but suddenly both hands went to his head and he doubled over, eyes squeezing shut. "Ow, ow, ow!"

"What?" Guy might have thought that Luke was faking it -- and for a split-second, that thought _did _enter unbidden into his mind, as guilty as it made him feel -- but Luke had been as honest as an open book since his return from Choral Castle, and the pain in his voice -- not to mention the pain on his face -- seemed genuine. "What's wrong? Luke?"

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! I - It hurts! Stop! Make it stop! Stop, stop, stop!" Luke's knees buckled from under him, but Guy dove forward to catch Luke before he hit the cobblestone, alarmed to find Luke shaking and curling into a little ball, clutching at his head.

"What hurts, Luke? What is it? Your head?" Luke's only response was continued whimpering and shaking, and Guy couldn't tell if he'd nodded or not. Tears were streaming down Luke's cheeks, and for the life of him, Guy was fumbling for an answer of what to do. _Should I try to move him? Carry him to the doctor? Call for help? What could have caused this, anyway? _Guy was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice right away when Luke's whimpering died down, his crying easing into smaller sniffles, his trembles fading away. It took Luke trying to sit up that got Guy to notice, and Guy's attention snapped to him with the force of a dog hearing a shrill whistle. "Luke? You okay?"

"Y - Yeah. It's g - gone now." Luke wiped at his eyes and sniffed again, his lips still pulled down in a decidedly unhappy expression. "My head hurt and I heard stuff."

"Stuff?" Guy's expression no doubt showcased his confusion. "What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff," Luke repeated. "I dunno. But it was loud and it hurt, and then my head hurt really bad."

"But you said the headache's gone now?"

"Yeah."

Luke didn't appear to be hurt, as far as Guy could tell, though the tears were still evident on his cheeks and in the redness of his eyes, and he still looked distracted and unhappy. Aside from that, Guy knew the proper protocol, and knew that Susanne herself would kill him if she heard that Luke had gotten sick and Guy hadn't taken him in.

"Well, we should probably have the doctor give you a quick check-up anyway, just in case. Why don't I take you back to your room and we can call him from there?"

Luke looked up to Guy with wide eyes, and then quickly shook his head. "No! I don't wanna see the doctor! I hate him!"

"Aw, c'mon, Luke. You don't hate the doctor. He's nice to you." Guy forced a smile through his concern, but Luke balled his hands into fists and set them on his thighs, sticking out his bottom lip in a definite pout. "Luke . . ."

"My head doesn't hurt anymore," Luke insisted. "I'm not sick. I don't need the doctor."

"But just in case, you should see the doctor." When Luke refused to budge, Guy sighed. "Please, Luke? Your mother will be really upset if you don't . . ."

Luke's bottom lip remained jutting out for a few moments more before he sighed, relenting with an unhappy nod. "I guess . . ."

"Good." Whereas Luke was unhappy, Guy was relieved. He'd have carried Luke back kicking and screaming if he had to, but that was the absolute last thing that he wanted to do at the moment. Standing up, he offered his hand to Luke. "Think you can walk?"

"Yeah." Luke took Guy's hand, and though he tried to let go as soon as he was on his feet, Guy held on. "Guy?"

"Just in case," Guy said, winking once at Luke and forcing a laugh. While Luke could be stubborn as a mule and absolutely insist on getting what he wanted, he let this one slide with a nod, and let Guy guide him back toward the manor. Luke's room was only on the other side of the courtyard, within easy eyesight of where they'd been, but even so, Guy was worried. Sudden headaches like that weren't normal in anyone, much less a perfectly healthy ten-year-old kid. And besides that . . .

"Hey, Luke?"

"Yeah, Guy?"

". . . I'm sorry."

. . . Guy felt guilty. Obviously he hadn't been the one to cause the headache, but he _was _the one that had been yelling unnecessarily at Luke before it, and -- worse than that -- had been thinking of killing the kid in cold blood for being a little thoughtless of the maids around the manor. That wasn't a good enough reason to kill _anyone_, much less a child. Guy couldn't dismiss his revenge -- there was no way he could do that -- but he couldn't justify it based on little annoyances, either. That wasn't right.

"What for?" Luke asked, turning to face Guy as they reached the door that led to the corridor which housed Luke's large bedroom. Guy offered Luke a wry half-smile, and reached out to lightly ruffle Luke's hair.

"For being a jerk."

"A jerk?"

"A mean person."

"Oh." Luke frowned, placing his hands on his hips. "You're not, Guy! You're . . ." Luke paused, searching for the word, and then grinned. "You're cool!"

Guy laughed -- genuinely laughed -- knowing exactly where Luke had gotten that word. Opening the door, Guy ushered Luke into the corridor, making sure that Luke was inside first before following and shutting the door behind them. "Yeah, but even cool people can be jerks sometimes," Guy said, putting a hand on Luke's shoulder to guide him toward his bedroom. "Remember that for when you're older."

"Huh? Why?" Luke twisted his head around to look up at Guy, looking almost indignant. "I'll never be a jerk." His response was so innocently indignant that Guy couldn't help but laugh a little again.

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that."

* * *

Guy had taken Luke to his room and had then gone off to fetch the doctor, leaving the doctor to tend to Luke after that. Guy was positive that Luke wouldn't like it, but Guy was smart enough to know that he couldn't be in Luke's room with any other witnesses around. After all, if word got back to Duke Fabre, it'd be his head on a platter.

It was for that reason that Guy waited until much later to return -- until after Luke had already eaten dinner, bathed, and been sent to his room to write in his journal and go to sleep. Once the final maid had checked in on Luke for the night Guy slipped in like normal, a glass of milk and a couple cookies held in his hands. As Guy had predicted, Luke was sitting at his desk, scowling at the journal opened up before him until he heard Guy enter, turning his scowl into a bright smile.

"Guy!" His typical smile faded slightly, and he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. "Why didn't you come with the doctor today?"

"You know I'm not supposed to be in here, Luke." Guy waited until he'd quietly shut the door behind him to answer, crossing the room in a few easy strides to set Luke's milk and the cookies down on Luke's desk. "If the doctor had seen, he probably would have told your father."

Luke's pout twisted into more of a genuine frown. "Father should let you visit. You're my friend."

"I'm your servant," Guy corrected easily. "So I'm not allowed."

"You're my _friend_," Luke further corrected, reaching for a cookie. "So you should be."

"Ah, ah." Guy reached out to gently knock Luke's hand away, ignoring the argument over whether he was a friend or a servant in favor of indicating Luke's journal. "How much have you written?"

"Enough," Luke said evasively, but Guy reached for the journal regardless. "Hey!"

"You have to write at least a page or it doesn't count." Guy skimmed the entry for length before setting it back down in front of Luke, motioning for Luke to pick up his pencil again. "Just write a little more and then you can dig in."

"Hmph. Now you _are _being a jerk." Despite his words, Luke didn't seem to be too miffed, and Guy smiled a lopsided smile.

"Maybe I shouldn't have taught you that word. Or reminded you of that word, I guess."

"Why not? It's a cool one. And a _true _one right now." As he spoke, Luke's eyes remained fixated on his journal, slowly scrawling messy lines across it. "One bite would be a good thing, you know? It'd make me want to write more."

"Wanting the cookie is making you want to write more," Guy countered, tilting his own chair back on two legs. Luke huffed, but continued writing, and Guy watched as Luke chewed his lip in concentration as he wrote.

From what he'd heard from the other servants, the doctor hadn't been able to find a real cause for Luke's headache, and given the fact that Luke had heard a strange sound along with it, the doctor was chalking it up to post-traumatic stress disorder due to the kidnapping. Sometimes symptoms appeared late, he'd said, so it wasn't really all that surprising that Luke was experiencing the first headache a little over a month after his kidnapping. The doctor said that with rest and time, Luke would surely return to normal, and might even regain his memories.

Truth be told, Guy wasn't sure what was worse: to have tear-inducing headaches, or to not be able to remember anything at all.

". . . Guy?"

Guy shook his head, scattering his thoughts like dust on a table, and looked at Luke. "Sorry," he said, grinning a bit sheepishly. "You say something?"

"I said I'm done." Luke indicated his completed journal page with an almost dismissive wave of his hand, his concerned eyes never leaving Guy's face. "Are you okay? You looked sad."

"Huh? Oh, no, I'm fine. You did good, Luke." Guy tried to smile, and nudged the plate with the cookies closer to Luke, taking one for himself as Luke reached up to take the other. "Have a cookie."

Luke took the proffered cookie, tearing off a small piece and sticking it in his mouth, looking up at Guy every now and then with the same quizzical look. If it hadn't been for that -- if Luke had merely let the subject go -- Guy might have just let the subject pass without further exploration. But Luke very obviously wasn't letting the subject go, and because of that, Guy couldn't either.

"It was just . . . I was just wondering . . ." Luke looked back up to Guy with expectant eyes, and Guy sighed. "Is it hard not having your memory?"

Luke blinked, completely taken aback by Guy's question. Truth be told, Guy wasn't sure what kind of answer he was expecting. After all, wasn't it obvious? Luke faced plenty of difficulties due to the fact that he couldn't remember anything. He'd even forgotten how to walk and talk, for Yulia's sake. Of _course _it was hard. But Luke, for all that he could pout and sulk and throw tantrums, wasn't the type of child to cry endlessly. If something bothered him, really bothered him, he seemed to want to keep it to himself. His reluctance to see the doctor was proof enough of that. So Guy wasn't sure what to expect, and wasn't sure if he'd try to coax an answer out of Luke if Luke refused to answer.

But he didn't. After looking at his cookie and pondering it for a few moments, Luke looked up at Guy with an expression that was startlingly calm and clear.

"I guess," he said. "But you can't go forward if you keep looking back, so . . . I don't need a past." That being said, Luke went back to his cookie, eating it piece by piece, eating the parts with the most dough first while savoring the chocolate chips.

Guy couldn't think of a response to that -- could only stare at Luke, his own cookie forgotten. When Luke finished his cookie and asked rather bluntly if he could have the rest of Guy's, Guy let him, still too stunned by his answer to really care about his cookie anymore. _You can't go forward if you keep looking back. _It was so simple, yet so . . . beyond Luke's years. Was this really the same kid who didn't even knew what a jerk was just earlier that day?

"Hey, Guy?" Luke's voice broke Guy once more from his reverie, and it took Guy a few seconds to focus. Both cookies were gone and the glass of milk was empty, and Luke was getting up from his chair. "Will you tell me a story tonight?"

"Yeah," Guy agreed, his response automatic. "Sure. What kind of story do you want?"

"I don't know. Any kind." Luke bounded over to his bed, jumping upon it and scrambling to get beneath the covers. "Maybe one about some kind of adventure."

"All right then." Guy pulled his chair over beside Luke's bed, wondering if he could really improvise a story, or if he'd have to go for the storybook. "I think I can do that. "Once upon a time, there was a great hero named -- "

"Luke!" Luke interrupted, grinning broadly. _How modest_, Guy thought, but grinned in spite of his own thoughts.

"Luke. The great hero Luke lived in the kingdom of Dimlasca, protecting it from evil and with great honor and virtue . . ."

* * *

Luke had fallen asleep halfway through the story, like always, and Guy had returned the empty plate and glass to the manor's kitchen before retiring to his own room. He half-expected Pere to be asleep, given all the gardening labor that Pere did all day, but when Guy returned, Pere was still awake, reading a book.

"Good evening, Master Gailardia," Pere greeted when Guy had shut the door. "You are back quite late. Was Master Luke all right?"

"Oh, so you heard, then. Yeah, he was fine." Guy unhooked his sword from his belt, leaning it against the wall as he walked over to flop down onto his bed. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt exhausted. He didn't even feel like undressing. "The doctor didn't really know what caused the headache. Said it was probably post-traumatic stress disorder or something like it."

"I see. That child has certainly been through a lot."

"Yeah. He has."

Silence fell between them for a moment and Guy closed his eyes, snuggling his face into his pillow. It felt so _good _that he was positive that he never wanted to move again. But then Pere spoke up and Guy sighed into his pillow, knowing that sleep wouldn't be that easy. "Master Gailardia, about our conversation earlier -- "

"Yeah, about that." Guy flipped over to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I thought about it a lot after I walked out of here."

". . . If you don't mind me asking, what conclusion did you reach?"

"I . . . I don't know, Pere," Guy admitted, lacing his fingers on his stomach. "You were right about a lot of things. I _do _spend a lot of time with Luke, and I _do _enjoy it. He's irresponsible and can be a bit of a brat, but . . . I like him, even when I get mad at him like I did today." Guy sighed. "I shouldn't have been. I was overreacting. But I'd been thinking about my revenge, and then when I saw him come running out . . . well, let's just say that his little episode put things back into perspective for me. He's just a kid, Pere. Luke didn't kill Mary or any of the others -- Duke Fabre did."

"I see. So, you aren't going through with your revenge, then?"

"That's just it -- I have to. I promised Mary and Mother and Father and all the others that I would." Guy looked over at Pere briefly before returning his eyes to the ceiling. "I just . . . I don't know. I don't think I can kill Luke, but at the same time, what choice do I have? I can't just break the promise that I made to my family. Duke Fabre needs to pay for what he did." Guy paused briefly. "But, do you know what Luke said to me earlier?"

"What?"

"I asked him if it was hard not having his memories. He thought about it for a moment, and then he looked at me and said, 'you can't go forward if you're always looking back.' Just like that. It made me think a little bit, about maybe . . . maybe the reason I haven't moved on is because I won't let myself. Because I keep thinking about Hod and Mary and the others." Guy scowled. "But aren't I _supposed _to keep thinking about them? I can't forget them, nor can I forget the fact that Duke Fabre is the reason they're all dead." Guy made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "I just -- I just don't know, Pere. I don't know."

"Well," Pere said, and Guy glanced over in time to see Pere set his book down on the bedside table, giving Guy his full attention. "I will support you in whatever decision you make, Master Gailardia."

Despite his own confusion, Guy smiled a weary smile, closing his blue eyes. "Thanks, Pere," he said. "Thanks."


	3. First Snow

**Authors' Note: **They're the same ages here as they were in the last two (ten and fourteen), although about six months have passed since Luke's "kidnapping" here. Consider this to be a little bit of holiday season-inspired brotherly fluff. :)

Please review!

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Three: First Snow**

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* * *

**

If there was one thing that Baticul didn't receive very often, it was snow, and Guy was glad that this year was a year when snow decided to grace Baticul with its presence. Luke had seen snow before, of course, when he was younger, but with the amnesia induced by his kidnapping he didn't remember it, and Guy wouldn't have passed up Luke's reaction for the world. Upon first stepping out into the white-blanketed courtyard, Luke's green eyes widened to the size of large coins, his mouth dropping open in shock as he stared at the white flakes spiraling down. It was priceless -- absolutely priceless -- and Guy wished that he had a camera there to record the event.

"Like it?" Guy asked, walking around so that he could stand in front of Luke. Luke looked over to him briefly, the shock never leaving his face.

"What _is _it?" Luke asked in a hushed voice. "Is it the end of the world?" Guy couldn't help but laugh, kneeling down to begin scooping some of the snow between his gloved hands.

"Of course it's not. This is snow."

"Snow?"

"Frozen, crystallized water that falls from the sky when the temperature drops too low for it to be ordinary rain. You've seen it before, a long time ago -- it doesn't snow too often in Kimlasca, and certainly not too often around Baticul -- but you wouldn't remember it."

"Oh." Luke walked a little further out into the courtyard, and Guy watched in amusement as Luke stared at the footprints his boots created in the snow, the sound crunchy despite how soft the snow was. "How long does it last?"

"That depends on how long the weather decides to be cold. To be honest, we're lucky it's even sticking now. Baticul's not known for being very cold."

"What do we do with it until it goes away?"

"I'm glad you asked, Luke." Finished packing his snowball, Guy held it out to Luke, balancing the ball easily on his open palm. When Luke gave him nothing but a blank stare, Guy smiled, stretching his arm out a little further. "Here, take this."

"What is it?" Luke walked over, gently picking the snowball up from Guy's offering palm.

"It's exactly what it looks like. It's a snowball." Guy watched as Luke marveled at it for a few seconds before saying, "And there are several different things you can do with that snowball, too."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well, for one thing, you can throw it at people -- but I wouldn't recommend throwing it at me, because there's no way you could beat me at a snowball fight." The mischievous look in Luke's eyes said quite plainly that he disagreed, but he remained quiet as Guy continued. "You can also build a snowman."

"A snowman? Like a man made out of snow?" When Guy nodded, Luke made a face. "Why would you want to do that? I like the idea of throwing snowballs a lot better."

"Oh, really?" While Guy knew that he really shouldn't engage Luke in a snowball fight -- Luke had no experience and no hope of winning, and it wasn't exactly proper for a servant to thoroughly whip his young master in a snowball fight -- he had to admit that he was tempted. After all, snowball fights were Guy's favorite winter activity, right above sledding. "You sure about that, Luke?"

"Yeah." Luke grinned devilishly, pulling his arm back, but Guy reached up quickly and grabbed Luke's wrist.

"If you want to have a proper snowball fight," he said seriously, "then you don't start by just throwing the first snowball you see. Instead, you start by building a fort."

"A fort?" Luke lowered his arm, staring at Guy in confusion. "How do I do that?" Guy reached up to take the snowball from Luke's hand, tossing it carelessly over to one side, and then stood up, leading Luke across the courtyard.

"With my help, of course," he said, stopping once he was on the other side to kneel in the snow again. "We'll make you a basic one, just to get you started. And then, while I build mine, you can get started building some snowballs to use as ammo."

"Okay!" Luke plopped down in the snow, gasping a bit when he felt a bit of the cold seep through his pants, his cheeks flushed pink with cold and excitement. "So, Guy, what do we do first?"

"We start with the walls. You're going to want a good, strong frontal wall to help protect against my assault." Guy began scooping up the snow, forming it into a little wall, packing it tightly together. Beside him, Luke began to mimic his actions, his small, gloved hands working furiously. "We'll also give you a little window, so that you can look to see what I'm doing without having to stand up over your fort."

"Okay." Guy glanced to his right and saw that Luke's lips were set into a tight line of concentration, his green eyes narrowed at the budding snow fort wall. Guy couldn't help but grin; whereas Luke could be completely nonchalant about his studies, blowing them off to the last, he seemed to be dead serious when it came to playtime. "Should I have side walls, too?"

"Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea. I'll get started on some of your side walls while you keep building the front one." Luke nodded to show that he understood as Guy moved to the side, beginning the left wall of Luke's snow fort. Eventually, Guy had provided enough of a start for Luke to finish his fort by himself, leaving Guy to jog back across the courtyard to start building his own fort, moving quickly to have the front wall up before Luke grew impatient and decided to start the war early.

Fortunately, Guy managed to build most of his war before Luke's impatience truly set in, a snowball crashing against Guy's front wall. "Hey!" Guy yelled, though there wasn't any real ire in his voice. "I didn't say 'start'!" His only answer was a peal of laughter from Luke's fort, and two more snowballs lobbed his way. While the first one just hit the wall of his fort again, the second one actually managed to sail over, and Guy had to duck in order to avoid being hit in the head with it. "Well, if that's the way you want to play, Luke, then we'll play that way. Get ready!"

"I was born ready!" Luke shouted back, his words ringing with bravado. Guy grinned, packing a snowball hard as he stood up.

"We'll see about that!" Quickly, Guy stood up and threw his snowball over the top of his fort, his grin growing a little wider when he heard Luke's squeak of surprise; his snowball had hit its mark. Ducking down again, Guy quickly began making more snowballs, readying his ammo just as he was sure Luke was doing on the opposite side.

But while Luke's first few snowballs had missed their mark, Luke was a fast learner, and as Guy was readying his pile, another snowball sailed over Guy's wall and hit him smack in the head. Guy yelped in surprise as the snow splattered against the side of his head, and Luke erupted in laughter from over in the other fort.

"Hahaha! Take that, Guy!"

"Oh, I'll take it," Guy called back, picking up a snowball in each hand, "but only because I can give it even better!" Guy threw both snowballs, though one connected in the air with one of Luke's, bursting apart and showering snow back upon the ground.

The snowball fight continued in this fashion for awhile, with Guy throwing snowballs as quickly as he could form them to keep a continuous stream going. It was for this reason that he didn't notice right away when the return fire ceased on Luke's side -- but it had, and when Guy did notice, he frowned, dropping the snowball he'd been preparing to throw.

"Luke?" he called, and when he didn't receive an answer, called, "Luke? Are you all right over there?" As much as he considered a snowball war to be serious, Guy also knew that the temperature was serious, and although the maids had made doubly-sure that Luke was bundled enough to stay warm, if enough snow seeped through his clothing . . .

"Gotcha!" The shout came from behind Guy, and before he could turn something small slammed into him, causing him to tumble forward and fall through his snow fort. Guy twisted, wrestling with the laughing ten-year-old that had tackled him, and was quickly trying to shove snow down Guy's coat.

"Hey! Luke!" Guy couldn't help but laugh, even as cold wet seeped down into his shirt. "Stop that!"

"This is faster than throwing snowballs," Luke reasoned. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first!" As Luke reached down to grab more snow, Guy flipped him over, shoving him into the cold pile and picking up snow himself.

"Well, two can play at that game," he said, grinning wickedly in the face of Luke's wide-eyed look of surprise. "C'mere, Luke!"

"Ack! No!" Luke scrambled to get to his feet, but as he did Guy's hand flashed out, grabbing Luke's ankle and tripping him up. Luke face-planted in the snow, squirming to try to get away, more snow getting into his coat by virtue of falling into the pile than by Guy shoving it down. Seeing this, Guy gave up with the snow, and just settled for tickling Luke through his coat. Luke was extremely ticklish, and his peal of laughter and loud orders for Guy to stop echoed around the courtyard. Guy knew he was supposed to obey Luke -- he _was _the servant, after all -- but no one was around, and besides, Luke had earned it, hadn't he? Tickling couldn't hurt, and it might actually teach him a lesson.

Luke wasn't about to have that, though. When he finally managed to squirm away, he swept his arm through the snow to knock some up into Guy's face, using the momentary distraction to launch himself at Guy and knock them both into the snow.

"You fight dirty!" Guy exclaimed, and Luke spared one moment to look into Guy's face, the serious set of his lips contradicted by the laughter in his eyes.

"So do you, with the tickling!"

"There's more where that came from, Luke!" Before Guy could get him, Luke had scrambled away, his gloved hands quickly forming a sloppy snowball that he lobbed straight at Guy's head. Guy blocked it with one arm, scrambling to his feet so that he could kick some snow Luke's way, showering the younger boy with it. Instead of retaliating, though, Luke spread his arms out and flopped backward onto the snow, landing with a somewhat crunchy _plop_, and laying perfectly still. "What's that?" Guy asked, raising an eyebrow over his grin. "Do you admit defeat, _Master _Luke?"

"No!" Luke retorted stubbornly, lifting his head to stick his tongue out at Guy. "I just figured I should get the rest of the way yet since you decided to kick snow all over me anyway." Guy scoffed, walking over to drop down next to Luke, turning his eyes upward toward the Fon Belt.

"You were already covered in snow anyway. You practically buried yourself in it earlier when you decided to get tickled."

"Hey! I never _decided _to be tickled, _you _just tickled me."

"_You _challenged me in close-quarters combat. _That_, soldier, is _deciding _to be tickled."

"Hmph. Whatever." Guy chuckled at Luke's mock indignant tone, glancing over at Luke in his peripheral vision as Luke let out a small sigh. "This has been one of the best days _ever. _I hope . . ."

"Hope what?"

"You know how they make me write in that stupid journal just in case I forget stuff? Well, I hope I don't. Forget today, I mean. That'd really suck."

"Well, if you did, you'd have it written down in your journal, right? Not that you really need to worry about it, anyway. You won't forget today." Guy folded his arms behind his head, turning back to look at the Fon Belt, though he could practically feel Luke's eyes on him.

"How can you say that? You don't know -- "

"Sure I do. The reason you got amnesia in the first place is because you got kidnapped, right? Because something bad happened to you. Well, it's my job to take care of you, Luke, and I say nothing bad's going happen to you so long as I'm around. So, you won't be getting amnesia any time soon." Guy turned his head back to meet Luke's gaze, smiling. "Promise."

Luke seemed to consider this for a few moments before he smiled himself, the smile looking a little bit crooked. "Okay, I'll hold you to that, Guy." Guy settled back onto the snow upon hearing that, turning his smile up to the Fon Belt.

"Good. You should."

Months ago, he wouldn't have been able to make that promise. Months ago he would have hesitated, debated, _agonized _over what he should say, because months ago he still would have been riding the fence between being Luke's friend and his revenge. But although Guy still wasn't completely sure that he was making the right decision, his heart was telling him that he couldn't kill this kid -- that Luke had done nothing wrong, and that the devastation of Hod wasn't Luke's fault. Whatever problems Guy had with Duke Fabre were between himself and Duke Fabre, and Guy would find a way to settle them other than taking out Luke. There was no reason for Luke to be dragged into a feud that started when he was only a year old.

"But does this mean I don't have to write in that stupid journal anymore?"

Luke's sudden question brought Guy out of his reverie and he outright laughed, pushing himself to his feet. "Don't even think about it. Madam Fabre will have a fit if she finds out you've skipped even one day." Luke groaned, but Guy held out his hand regardless, waiting for Luke to take it so that he could haul the boy to his feet. "Now c'mon, let's get inside and get warmed up. You must be freezing."

"Not really," Luke said, setting his lips into a stubborn pout despite the fact that he was visibly shivering. Guy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, uh-huh. Come on, in you go. If you're really good, I might just bring you a surprise tonight instead of the usual milk and cookies." Luke's attention snapped fully to Guy at that point, his eyes widening.

"Really? What?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

"Tch. You suck, Guy."

"You say that now, but just wait 'till later. You'll be eating those words, I swear."

* * *

Of course, it didn't really matter whether Luke was good or not. Guy brought hot cocoa for Luke anyway, figuring that it would warm him up before bed and serve double as a snack and a drink. But when he got to Luke's room, sneaking in as was customary, he found that Luke wasn't there. The journal was open on Luke's desk, showing that Luke _had _been there at one time, but he wasn't there at present. Furthermore, Luke's window was open, the curtain blowing a little with the chilly night air, a few snowflakes getting in.

And Luke was still nowhere to be seen.

Without really thinking, Guy quickly set the mug down on Luke's desk, bolting for the window. He kept his sword on him most of the time, and that night was no exception; after returning from playing outside in the courtyard with Luke Guy had strapped his sword around his waist, and he was thankful for that fact now as he dropped out of Luke's window. "Luke?" he called, one hand on his sword hilt. "Luke, are you here? Answer me if you are!" _Damn it, where could he be? So much for that promise I made him earlier. I swear, if I find who did this--_

"Guy?"

"Luke?" Guy sighed audibly in relief when he caught sight of Luke out in the snow, his red hair bright even in the dark when set against the snow. "Jeez, Luke, you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing out here, and in your pajamas no less? It's freezing!" Guy started over toward Luke, frowning a little as the boy merely turned away, moving back toward the snow.

"I want to sleep out here tonight," Luke said, and Guy hissed through his teeth when he saw that Luke's hands -- not gloved, not protected at all -- were turning bright red from shoveling through the snow. "I figured I'd build one of those ice houses you told me about earlier."

"An igloo?" Luke nodded, and Guy fought the urge to slap his forehead. "Luke, you can't sleep in an igloo."

"Why not?" Luke's tone was demanding, and he turned to give Guy a flat look Guy knew he picked up from Natalia (though he'd never say that out loud -- if he did, Luke would throw a tantrum the size of Kimlasca).

"For one thing, you can't build one. You'll get hypothermia and die before you even get halfway done. For another, your parents would never hear of it, _because _you'd get hypothermia and die. Besides, if you stay out here building an igloo, then you'll never get to go inside and get your surprise."

"I have a surprise?" Though Luke had looked rather dejected at the thought of not being able to build and sleep in an igloo, he brightened at Guy's mention of a surprise. Guy nodded.

"Yup. Don't you remember that I promised you one earlier? Now, come on -- let's get inside. I hope you at least put shoes on."

"Slippers. I don't have my shoes in my room." Luke frowned, looking at his hands. "Or any of my winter stuff. My hands hurt."

"I bet. We'll have to warm you up and get you some dry pajamas. I really hope you don't end up sick from this, Luke, even though you probably will." Guy sighed, turning and bending down so that Luke could climb onto his back. Luke's feet were probably soaked from the snow even with slippers, and there was no reason to make a bad situation even worse. "Idiot."

"Hey, I am not," Luke protested. "Building an igloo would have been awesome!"

"Yeah, but you don't go out in snow without winter gear. Use your head, Luke."

"I would have used my winter gear if it was in my room."

"Point is, you shouldn't have gone outside. Don't do it again, okay?" Luke huffed, and Guy frowned. "Luke . . ."

"Okay, okay. I won't do it again." Luke's tone suggested that he was rolling his eyes, but his words were good enough for Guy, who let Luke climb off his back and into the open window. "So, what's the surprise?"

"It's over on your desk. But wait!" Guy turned quickly, hopping in through Luke's open window as Luke charged toward his desk. "Change out of your wet clothes first. You're going to catch pneumonia!"

"Hot cocoa!" Luke shouted nearly loud enough to wake the entire manor, ignoring Guy completely in favor of hopping into his chair and grabbing his mug. "And with marshmallows, too! Thanks Guy!" Smiling around the rim, Luke began indulging, apparently not caring that he was both wet and freezing. Guy sighed, going over to Luke's wardrobe to get a new set of pajamas, and dropping them on Luke's bed before he headed toward the door.

"I'm going to go get a towel to help you dry off," he said, trying to make his voice stern. Luke appeared not to have heard him. "And maybe some warm rags, too, to help your feet and hands warm up. You better be in those new pajamas by the time I get back." Again, Luke showed no sign of having heard him, but Guy turned and left anyway. Truth be told, he doubted Luke would be changed by the time he got back, but still, he could hope.

* * *

As Guy predicted, Luke hadn't been changed by the time he got back, and as he _also _predicted, Luke was sick as a dog the next morning. Susanne fretted, saying that he shouldn't go out and play in the snow anymore, but Luke would hear none of that, insisting that if it snowed again when he wasn't sick, he _was _going to build an igloo. Guy was seriously regretting having told Luke the igloo story, and so he tried to distract Luke with other stories the next day as Luke lay in bed, sick and living on nothing but soup.

"An abominable snowman? Really?" Luke deadpanned. "You're telling me that a man made out of _snow _is deadly?" Guy laughed, shaking his head.

"Not that kind of snowman, Luke. This is a yeti -- or Bigfoot. It's a creature that's said to live in snowy mountains that is sort of a half-ape, half-human type thing."

"Then why's it called the abominable snowman if it's not a man made out of snow?"

"Because some people mistook it for one, I guess."

"How can you mistake an ape-person thing for a snowman?!"

"Beats me. But do you want to hear the legend or not?"

"Yeah, I do." Luke had sat up to question the authenticity of the abominable snowman, but he flopped back onto his pillows to hear Guy's story, looking at Guy with expectant eyes. "So tell it already, would you?"

"You're a little demanding for someone who's got himself laid up in bed," Guy noted, but launched into the story anyway, dropping his voice in an attempt to make it more spooky. "Legend has it that it starts in mountains in Malkuth, north of a snowy city known as Keterburg . . ."


	4. Birthday

**Authors' Note: **Guy's still fourteen here, but -- since it's his birthday -- Luke just turned eleven. :) Oh, and I read somewhere that in-game, Guy's actually terrible at baking sweets -- let's just pretend that the reason he was able to do it this time was because he had supervision, and that without the supervision, the cake would have been a disaster. :) This is, by the way, based on one of Guy's cooking skits; when the others ask him how he got to be so good at cooking, and if he maybe cooked at the manor, Guy says something to the effect of, "Sometimes, and on Luke's birthday." So, there you go.

Please review!

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Four: Birthday**

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* * *

**

Most children were allowed to do whatever they wanted on their birthdays. After all, it was _their _day, their _special _day in which they could do whatever they pleased. But Luke fon Fabre was _not _an ordinary child, and so he didn't fit that criteria. Instead, he found himself at the opposite end of the spectrum, surrounded by maids dressing him in formal wear and tutors trying to teach him last-minute etiquette before the noble-filled party he would be attending later that evening. This meant that he wasn't allowed to play with Guy, who had no other set duties besides playing with Luke.

But that didn't mean that Guy was just going to sit around all day.

Having managed to make his way into the kitchen earlier that morning, Guy managed to use his history of good behavior and his most innocent smile to convince the cooks to let him make the cake under _extreme _supervision. "After all," the head chef told him severely, "if _anything _is at all amiss with any of the food prepared for Master Luke's birthday celebration, _especially_ the cake, Duke Fabre will have all our heads."

"Yes, sir." Guy nodded, his face as serious as he could manage. "So, what do we start with first?"

The head chef couldn't stay with Guy the entire time, having to oversee the entire dinner, but he made sure that the head baker was with Guy at all times, helping him measure out ingredients and mix them into the large bowl. To be honest, while Guy's original intentions had been to just help Luke, he found that he actually liked the process of baking and cooking. Not so much that he'd go into the kitchen every night, but the experience of seeing the chefs prepare the dinner around him and experiencing first-hand what it was like to measure out ingredients and beat them into cake batter was actually sort of fun.

"Bet Luke would love this," Guy murmured, lifting his wooden batter beater that was weighted down with chocolate batter. "He'd get it all over himself, but he'd love it."

"But the first reason means that _Master _Luke won't be anywhere near it." The baker gave Guy a pointed look as he lifted the beater from Guy's hand, tossing it over at a sink. Guy gave the baker a slightly affronted look.

"Hey, I wasn't actually going to give it to him. Both senior Fabres would have my head if they saw me carrying something dripping chocolate batter through the manor, not to mention if I gave it to Luke while he's all dressed up." The baker continued to give Guy a suspicious look, but nonetheless picked up the bowl of batter and carried it further down the counter. "Anyway, we have to pour that in a pan now, right?"

"Not just _a _pan," the baker said, and Guy looked up the counter to see that two round pans were stacked on top of each other, the one on top slightly smaller than the one on bottom. "This is a double-decker cake. We're using two."

"Wow. Luke eats a lot, but I don't think that even _he _can eat _that _much. Then again, all of the Kimlascan nobles are coming to this party, right? Not to mention the fact that the royal family will be in attendance. . . ."

"Correct. That's why this is so important, and why _I _will be pouring the batter. The last thing we need is an uneven cake." Guy opened his mouth to protest, but the baker shooed him away. "Go on. See if you can help prepare any of the main dishes if you want, but you can't do this."

"May I at least _ice _the cake?" Guy asked, and frowned when the baker shook his head. "But -- "

"Just like we don't need an uneven _cake_, we don't need uneven _icing_. Tell you what, though; I won't let you ice it, but I'll let you decorate it if you promise me that you have a steady hand."

"I do," Guy said instantly. "I work with fontech all the time, and you _have _to have steady hands to work with fontech, or else you'll end up breaking one of the smaller pieces or fraying a wire, and at that point it won't work anymore because -- "

"OH-kay, enough with the fontech lesson. Go on, git!" The baker pushed Guy lightly around the counter, gesturing to where the other chefs were working. "Go see if anyone else needs help while I pour the batter and put the cake in the oven."

The kitchen was so busy that it was hard for Guy to figure out who to go to next. There were cooks preparing soups, cooks preparing salads, servants bringing out clean dishes and the head chef working with a few others to prepare chicken fillets for the main course. It was a bit dizzying, and felt much safer over by the baker, who had a whole counter to himself as he prepared the birthday cake. Even so, Guy knew that if he went back over the baker again he'd be kicked out of the kitchen, and she wondered over to where a few of the cooks were preparing a soup, chopping up ingredients and tossing them up into the large pot.

"Hey," he said, smiling his best smile. "Need some help?" The cooks exchanged looks with each other before looking at him, their expressions incredulous.

"You want to help cook? Don't you have better things to do, Guy?"

"Not really. Master Luke's busy all day, after all. Getting ready for the party and all that. So I figured I'd help out in here. I could help chop up some vegetables for the soup, if you'd like. Or some of that . . . is that chicken meat?"

"Yes. Master Luke loves his chicken." One of the cooks smiled somewhat fondly, and then nodded, stepping aside. "You can cut up some of these vegetables if you like," he said, handing a knife over to Guy, "but cut them into even pieces, and be careful. You'll lose a finger if you're not careful, and we don't need you to contaminate the food with your blood."

"Somehow I think I'd be a little more concerned about my finger than about the food if that happened," Guy said, taking the knife with a raised eyebrow. The cook smiled wryly.

"That'd be before Duke Fabre got a hold of you."

_Let him try, _Guy thought, but dropped the subject, turning instead to the vegetables. Much like he'd found with blending ingredients together for cake batter, Guy found that he liked the rhythmic, repetitive motion of cooking. As he chopped the vegetables and scooped them pile by pile into the large soup pot, he found that the repetitive motion was calming, and allowed him to zone out a little, not concentrating on the time passing by. Every now and then, one of the cooks would interrupt him, instructing him on better cooking technique or adjusting the temperature on the soup. But Guy was able to slip right back into his zen state after they stopped talking, focusing only on the movements of his hands, and the end result he'd see.

_This dinner is definitely going to be a feast meant for a king, _he thought, tossing the last pile of vegetables into the pot. _Hope Luke likes it, even though he's been doing nothing but complaining about today ever since he was told about it two weeks ago._

Luke, after all, had absolutely no interests in noble etiquette or procedure. He didn't want to dress in formal wear, didn't want to associate with adults cooing over how adorable he was or with princesses who insisted that he had promised them something when he couldn't remember what. Luke wasn't opposed to the idea of good food or birthday presents, but he _was _opposed to the idea of having to spend the entire day at a Kimlascan noble event, unable to play with Guy or run around the manor like a wild child looking for a good time. Guy knew that Luke was probably miserable with whatever he was doing at the current moment, and could only hope that the fancy dinner and birthday cake would cheer him up.

By the time Guy finished with the soup, the cake still wasn't ready to be decorated, and so he found himself wandering the kitchen once more. He managed to make his way over the salads, the side dishes, and the main entrée before the cake was finally ready, and by that point even the head chef was relieved to have Guy back over by the baker, out of the way of everyone else.

"I'm really surprised you didn't wander away from the kitchen before the cake was finished," the baker said, handing Guy a tube of icing. "It isn't like this is the most exciting place for a kid like yourself."

"Sure it is," Guy argued, walking over to stand in front of the cake. "I've learned quite a bit, and besides, you never know when knowing how to cook will come in handy."

"I doubt you'll ever be in a position where you need to know how, unless you're planning on working here in the kitchen when you get older."

"Nah, I don't think that'll happen. But still, you never know."

"All right, whatever you say kid. Anyway, what you've got in your hands is red icing. What you'll want to do first is decorate the outer edges of the larger cake on the bottom, see? Add a little bit of flair to it. We want something simple, but elegant, so try to just ice around the edges in a sort of straight, sort of wavy line. You follow?"

"Yeah, I've got it." Holding the long tube carefully, Guy began to ice around the outer edge, walking around the counter so that he could get the entire cake. As he was finishing up, the baker spoke again.

"You'll want to do the same on the top -- just decorate around the outer edge, because we're going to put writing in the center."

"May I decide what to write?" Guy asked, smiling in self-satisfaction as he finished the bottom cake. It was perfect! He went far above being a simple servant with a steady hand; he was a cake decorating _master_. The baker gave Guy a flat look.

"That depends. What do you want to write?"

"Just a simple, "Happy birthday Luke," I guess. After all, if I wrote _Master _Luke, that'd look weird." Guy stepped up onto a small pile of cookbooks the baker had dropped for him so that he could get a better look at the top of the cake, and the baker nodded his approval.

"I think that'll be okay. Just be careful, and write neatly. Writing with icing is a lot different than writing with a pencil."

"No worries, I'll be careful." Guy bit his lip in concentration as he iced the outer perimeter of the top cake, and then as he moved on to the wording. Just as the baker said, it was very different than writing with a pencil, and was moderately difficult -- more difficult than the simple, circular icing had been. But Guy worked carefully, and though the end result looked a little clumsy, the words _Happy Birthday Luke! _were still easily distinguishable on the top of the cake in red icing.

"You did good, kid," the baker admitted, taking the icing back from Guy. "I don't think His Grace will be too displeased by this result -- or displeased at all, really."

"Good," Guy replied, looking back over at his handiwork with a grin. "You know, if I didn't enjoy fontech so much, I might devote more of my time to decorating cakes. That was a lot of fun."

"Well, good thing you enjoy fontech. I don't know if could stand to have you in my hair every day." The baker reached out and gave Guy a playful shove toward the door. "Now, go on. I think your work in here is done."

Guy looked around. Though there were a few stations that looked as though they needed a few finishing touches, for the most part, everything looked done, just as the baker had said. He grinned a little, and flashed the baker a two-fingered salute.

"Yes, sir. I'll get out of your way. Thanks again for letting me help."

"No problem, kid." Guy ducked out of the kitchen by virtue of the swinging door, heading out into the corridor and nearly jumping into a wall to avoid the gaggle of maids that rushed by, shouting for Luke. Guy hoped that Luke hadn't decided to run off again, but knew that it wasn't his place to go look for Luke this time; if he found Luke, there was no doubt that Luke would just want to play, and that would create a lot of unneeded stress on everyone involved. Besides, Guy had another project to think about now that preparing the meal was out of the way:

He had to finish Luke's birthday present.

* * *

Luke's birthday party lasted until relatively late -- until the sun had already set and all that was left was for Luke to wash up, write in his journal, and then go to bed. This time, instead of going to the kitchen to get Luke a before-bed snack first, Guy was waiting in Luke's room when Luke returned from his bath, sitting on Luke's windowsill and offering the kid a wave as he entered.

"Hey there, Luke," he greeted, grinning in the face of Luke's astonishment. "Happy birthday."

"Guy!" Luke shut his door quickly, and bounded over to stand in front of Guy, a pout on his face and his arms folded across his chest. "Where were you today? Why didn't you come to that stupid party?"

"You know I couldn't, Luke. I'm just your servant. I'm not allowed."

"You're not _just _my servant. You're my _friend_," Luke stressed, his words so earnest that it took Guy by surprise.

"Luke . . ."

"And I wanted you there," Luke went on. "It was so boring without you! Mother and Father's friends were there, but they were all adults and so it was boring. The only other one there was stupid Natalia, and I didn't want to talk to her because she's _stupid_, and promised me that she'd make me say my promise to her -- whatever that was." Luke huffed, looking thoroughly irritated. Guy recovered enough from his surprise to smile faintly, reaching out to ruffle Luke's hair.

"Aw, c'mon, Luke. The party couldn't have been _that _bad. At least you had good food and presents, right?"

"Yeah. The food was really good -- the chicken and cake especially," Luke admitted, and Guy felt his grin grow a little more. "And the presents were okay, I guess. They were all clothes and books, though. Boring stuff."

"Well, just wait a couple years. Once you're old enough to start sword training, I'm sure things'll be more interesting." Luke blinked, tilting his head curiously.

"Sword training? I'll learn how to fight with a sword? That sounds _awesome_! When'll that happen?"

"Probably when you turn thirteen. So just one more boring birthday, Luke." Well, aside from the party he'd have to suffer through when he was thirteen as well, but Guy decided not to add in that part. "Now, why don't you go record today's events in your journal? Just one page, and then you'll be done."

Luke didn't look particularly thrilled at the idea of having to write in his journal, but he turned to head over to his desk anyway. When he got there, though, he paused, and looked over at Guy in confusion.

"Hey, Guy. Don't I usually get something to eat or drink after this?"

"Yeah. But didn't you have enough cake at your birthday party?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not hungry. But I don't want to write in this stupid thing for no reason."

"You have a reason. You have to write in it, or your parents will be upset." At Luke's continued obstinate look, Guy sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Don't worry about it, okay? I've got something for after you finish. But just write one page and worry about it then, all right?"

Luke heaved an exaggerated sigh, dropping down into his desk chair and reaching for his pencil. "Fine, fine . . ."

Luke was quiet as he wrote in his journal, but that left Guy's thoughts to wander back to what Luke had said earlier. Luke considered Guy to be his _friend. _There were lots of problems that came with that title. Guy didn't want to kill Luke anymore, but that didn't change the fact that at one time, those thoughts _had _circled around his mind -- not to mention the fact that he was hired as Luke's _servant_, and actual _friendship _between a master and servant was frowned upon. He was thought of as a commoner, after all, never mind his true heritage, and noblemen were not supposed to associate with commoners. Of course, if Luke already thought Guy was his friend, then the "damage" was done, and there wasn't too much that could be done about it. . . . Not that Guy _wanted _to "do" something about it, anyway.

"You done?" Guy asked, raising his head up a little higher to look at the words trailing along the bottom of Luke's journal page. Luke nodded, throwing his pencil across his desk and shutting his journal with a dull _thump_.

"Yup. Now, do you have a good reason for why I had to do that or not?"

"Haha, well, that all depends on what you think a good reason is." Guy hopped off Luke's windowsill, walking over to Luke with one hand behind his back. Luke watched him curiously until Guy drew a small package wrapped in simple brown paper from behind his back, grinning. "Here you go. Happy birthday, Luke."

"You already told me that, Guy," Luke said, but he took the gift from Guy anyway, staring at it in wonder. "What is it?"

"Why don't you open it and find out?"

Luke didn't need any more incentive. He tore off the brown paper quickly, leaving it in shreds upon his floor, and opened the box that contained the gift quickly. Tossing the lid of the box onto his desk, Luke stared at the gift inside for a few seconds before carefully lifting it out of the box. The gift itself appeared to be nothing special, on the surface; it was a metal cube with a button on one side that was wired to the top, which -- if examined closely -- could be moved, and currently read "yes."

"Like it?" Guy asked, watching Luke's face to assess his reaction. Luke looked up at Guy, blinking.

"What _is _it?"

"It's a fontech fortune box," Guy explained, reaching out to take it from Luke to show him how it worked. "If you have any questions about anything -- like, say, how something will work out -- you ask the question, and then press this button, and the box will tell you. Watch." Guy pressed the button, causing the top panel of the box to spin rapidly for a couple seconds before it settled on "no." "Of course, the question has to be a yes or no question. I couldn't figure out a way to get it to have other answers. But on the plus side, it doesn't just alternate, so if you want to see if your answer is _really _legitimate, you can ask it multiple times."

"Wow, you actually _made _this?" Luke reached out to take the fortune box back from Guy, who grinned.

"Yep. I got some scrap metal together and made it. Like it?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool." Luke pondered the box for a few moments before staring at it intently, determination crossing over his features. "Fortune Box, will Natalia _ever _leave me alone?" Luke pressed the button as Guy laughed, and then groaned when the box decided _no _(while Guy laughed even harder). "Aw, man!"

"Guess you're stuck with Princess Natalia for the rest of your days," Guy said, once he got his laughter under control. "But that's fine, because you're stuck with me, too."

Luke gave Guy a speculative look, and then looked back down at the cube in his hands. "Fortune Box, is that true?" Pressing the button, Luke watched the fortune box intently until it finally settled on _yes_, and then he grinned in satisfaction. "Good. That's one answer I actually _wanted _to hear."


	5. Gift

**Authors' Note:** For this one, Luke is eleven, and Guy is fifteen. This takes place a few months after the last one. For the record, I'm basing these one-shots purely off the game; I haven't seen the anime, nor have I read the manga. From what I've played of the game (and I've only beaten it once), there's not really an explanation for where Guy's choker comes from, and so I'm filling in my own. :)

And for the record, I love Pere, though I am not fond at all of Duke Fabre. Not at _all_.

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Five: Gift**

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* * *

**

The first night Guy didn't visit Luke's room with an after-journal snack, Luke resolved to let it go. He wasn't necessarily happy about it, but he figured that Guy had just forgotten, or that Guy was busy. The puzzling thing was that Luke wasn't able to find Guy at all the next day, even though he looked after his lessons were over and in-between meals. That night, however, Guy still didn't visit, and upon the second day of being unable to find Guy and the third night without an appearance, Luke was beginning to get more than just a little frustrated.

It was for this reason that Luke skipped his lessons on the fourth day, going so far as to jump out of the window and run full-pelt away from his tutor, ignoring the shouts for him to come back and running straight for the manor's large garden. The garden was on the outer side of the manor, and was set up in the form of a maze, with tall hedges preventing sight over them and tall trees growing amidst the flowers. Luke ran into the hedge-maze, heading for a tree in the center of the garden, figuring that if _he _couldn't find _Guy_, then he would make _Guy _find _him_.

Luke didn't have to wait long. He'd barely had time to climb the tree before he caught sight of Guy threading his way through the garden, blond spikes visible from Luke's vantage point. _There you are, Guy, _he thought, scowling as he balanced himself on the thick branch. _Long time no see._

"Master Luke?" Guy called as he neared, squinting up at Luke in the tree. "There you are. You're supposed to be in your lessons."

Luke frowned at the title, but dismissed it for the time being. "I hate my lessons," he called back down, leaning forward so that he was lying on his stomach on the branch. "They're boring. Where have you been, Guy? I haven't seen you for days!"

"My apologies," Guy said, bowing stiffly. "I was under the impression that you had quite enough work to do without any interruptions." Luke furrowed his brow at the formalness of Guy's speech, and how stiffly Guy seemed to be holding himself. "Please come down from the tree, Master Luke. The Duke and Duchess Fabre are beginning to worry."

"Why are you talking like that?" Luke demanded instead, sitting up but not moving aside from that. "And what's with calling me "Master" Luke all of a sudden? And why didn't you come by my room these past few nights? I had to write in my journal for nothing!"

Guy didn't answer. Instead, Luke noticed that Guy still seemed to be very tense, and had his jaw clenched, his blue eyes hard. "You really need to come down from there," Guy called instead, and Luke scowled, placing one fist on his thigh.

"No. Not until you stop acting weird."

"I'm not acting weird. I'm acting as I should, as your servant." Guy sighed, and closed his eyes at Luke's explosive rebuttal.

"Don't be stupid! You know you're my friend even if you _are _my servant!"

"Master Luke -- "

"And don't call me that! Jeez, Guy, what's _wrong_ with you?!"

Guy opened his mouth to answer, but then turned to look behind him. Luke followed Guy's line of sight to see his father enter the small garden clearing, several servants behind him. Luke swallowed, but kept his scowl on his face. _I might be in trouble now, but Guy'll help me out, right?_

"There he is," Duke Fabre said, his voice a low, angry rumble in the clearing. "I'm surprised you were able to find him, Guy. The rest of the manor is still searching."

"I did my best, Your Grace." Guy's expression was as blank as it had been since he'd begun speaking with Luke, and he bowed to Duke Fabre just as he had to Luke. "Would you like me to go call off the search?"

"Yes, that would be fine." Guy nodded and then turned to exit the garden without once looking in Luke's direction, causing Luke's eyes to widen.

"Wait! Guy! Where are you going? Come back!" Guy stopped briefly, but then clenched his fists and kept walking, leaving Luke's sight entirely save for the top of Guy's blond hair. "Guy!"

"Luke!" Duke Fabre's booming voice jerked Luke's attention away from Guy, and back down to the small gathering beneath the tree. "Come down from that tree this instant. This behavior is quite unbecoming, and not acceptable in the slightest. You are to come down from that tree and go back to your lessons immediately."

Luke considered rebelling, since he highly doubted that his father would climb the tree after him, and knew that the only servant in the manor that would be able to climb the tree safely would be Guy. But Guy had already left, seeming to not care about Luke in the slightest, and if he was going to be cold and formal, then Luke didn't _want _him to climb the tree, anyway.

"Fine," Luke snapped, not bothering to even try to disguise the sulkiness of his tone. "But I'm not going to pay attention in my lessons, anyway." Luke dropped down from his branch to a lower one, and then jumped the rest of the way down to the grass, landing in a crouch. Immediately, several of the maids swarmed him, fussing over him and checking for injuries. Luke batted their hands away. "Stop that! Give me some space! I don't need you guys all crowding around me like that."

"Luke, behave." Duke Fabre's voice was severe, his gaze even harder than his tone. For a split second, Luke actually felt somewhat afraid, his petulance forgotten in the face of his father's angry glare. "Your attitude could certainly benefit from some conditioning. Hopefully some time away from playing and some newfound focus on your studies will do just that."

"Whatever," Luke muttered, looking away quickly so that he barely had time to see his father's eyes flash. "I'll go to my lessons now, just like you want."

"Good." Duke Fabre's reply was made to Luke's back as Luke started to make his way out of the garden, dragging his feet along the grass as he made his way back to the manor. Despite his words of returning to his lesson, Luke knew that he really _wouldn't _be concentrating on the lesson at all, no matter what the subject material. No, instead all he would be thinking about was how Guy had been seemingly avoiding him for the past few days, and how he'd barely made eye contact with Luke the entire time they spoke in the garden.

* * *

After his lesson, Luke tried to find Guy again, to no avail. It seemed like no matter where he went, or what he did, Guy was nowhere to be found. Eventually, his yelling seemed to distress his mother, who -- according to the maid that tracked him down -- was trying to rest. This was the only thing that made Luke stop shouting for Guy, and eventually had him sitting on a bench in the courtyard, staring rather dejectedly up at the afternoon sky.

"Pleasant day today, isn't it, Master Luke?"

"Huh?" Luke sat up, twisting on the bench seat to look over at Pere, who was tending to some flowers nearby. The elderly man smiled in Luke's direction, though Luke couldn't muster up the energy to smile back.

"Not really. I think today's stupid." Luke rested his chin on the back of the bench, blatantly pouting. Pere blinked, yet then turned back to his flowers.

"Really? I thought the temperature was rather nice, and the sun is shining so brightly."

"Yeah. But my best friend hates me," Luke muttered. "Who cares about the stupid sun when your best friend hates you?"

"Your best friend hates you?" Pere looked up from his flowers again, leaning against the flower box as he looked at Luke in surprise. "That does sound rather distressing. What makes you say that, Master Luke?"

"He's been avoiding me the past few days. Guy, I mean." Luke sat up straighter, pulling his glare from the flowers to look at Pere instead. "And then today when I saw him, he would barely even look at me, and kept calling me "Master" Luke and stuff."

Pere smiled, but to Luke, the smile looked almost sad. "That is how he is supposed to address you, Master Luke, being that Guy is a servant just like the rest of us."

"But he's not! I mean, he's a servant, but he's also my friend! Why's he being stupid and thinking he has to act like a servant all of a sudden?"

"That I cannot say." Pere picked up a spade, beginning to tend to the soil around the flowers, the movements rhythmic and gentle. "Everyone has reasons for acting the way they do. Just as Guy had reasons for being kind to you before, I'm positive that he has his reasons for avoiding you now."

"So he _is _avoiding me," Luke murmured, shoulders slumping. "I _knew _it."

"However," Pere went on, still not looking up from the soil he was tending, "the curious thing about friendship -- if that is what you believe you and Guy shared, that is -- is that it doesn't simply die overnight. Much like the flowers I grow, friendship is strong, and can sustain most hardships, if the people involved are willing to tend to it, and put effort into taking care of it."

"How?" Luke got up from the bench and walked over to stand by the flowerbed, looking from the flowerbed to Pere. "I mean, how do I do that? How do you take care of the flowers?"

"Well, flowers only require a few basic things. Plenty of sunlight, water, and fresh soil." Pere looked down at Luke with a kindly, aged smile as Luke pondered Pere's words.

"So I just need to get Guy some sunlight, water, and soil? Or something like those things?"

Pere laughed. "I'm not sure if that would solve your problem, Master Luke, but thinking along those lines may help. And, I'll let you in on a little secret." Pere glanced around, and then leaned down to whisper conspiratorially to Luke. "Each night before bed, I leave the room I share with Guy briefly in order to tend to various toiletries. I usually do this around the time you would ordinarily be writing in your journal. I leave the door unlocked during this time, and these past few nights Guy has been in the room . . ."

"So I could come by and see him then," Luke interrupted, his eyes widening. Pere smiled mischievously, straightening to return to his gardening.

"Well," he said, his voice returning to normal tones, "if one did want to see Guy, that might be an opportunity that one would be rather amiss to pass up."

Luke grinned, feeling daring and excited all at once. Whereas before the situation looked hopeless, now he had an idea of exactly what he needed to do.

"You know, Pere, you're not so bad. I can see why Guy's friends with you, too, even if he likes me more. Anyway, I gotta go -- I'll see you later. Bye, Pere!" With that, Luke turned and took off, running back toward the manor and almost missing Pere's parting words.

"You aren't so bad yourself, Master Luke . . ."

* * *

Luke spent the remainder of the day looking for something akin to "sun, water, and soil" that he could give to Guy. He didn't know what would work, given the fact that he hadn't ever given anyone anything before. And what was the human equivalent to sun, water, and soil anyway? Food? Luke was pretty sure that Guy could get all the food he wanted himself, and Luke didn't know how to cook, anyway. Chances were, even if the servants in the kitchen _did _allow him near the utensils, anything he tried to cook would end up tasting awful.

That left Luke wandering the manor, and it wasn't until he ended up in one of the spare bedrooms used mostly for storage that he managed to find something. Tucked into a wooden box on top of the dresser was a pendant -- a golden medallion attached to a green band that was somewhat stretchy, as if there was elastic inside. The medallion itself was very pretty, as far as Luke could see, shining even in the dim light produced by the lamps, and weighing heavy in his palm. Luke didn't know if Guy would like it, and he didn't even know who it belonged to, but he decided at that moment it didn't matter; _that _would be the sun, water, and soil that he gave to Guy, because it wasn't as if he'd found anything better, anyway. Tucking the necklace into his pocket, Luke turned and darted out of the room.

* * *

Later that night, the choker felt very heavy in Luke's pocket as he inched his way along the corridor, mindful of the servants that still wandered the halls at night and wondering if Guy was really going to be in the room. One thing was for certain: Guy wasn't on his way to Luke's room, and Luke knew that he couldn't just sit in his room, writing in his journal, pretending that everything was all right when it wasn't. If Guy wasn't going to visit Luke at night anymore, well, that was fine -- Luke could deal with that, even if he didn't want to. But Luke _couldn't _deal with Guy avoiding him forever -- not without telling Luke why, at least, and that required Luke going to visit Guy in his room.

If Guy was there, anyway. If he wasn't, well, Luke was never going to forgive Pere.

_Here goes nothing, _Luke thought, as he reached the wooden door that led to Pere and Guy's room. Steeling himself, Luke reached up and grasped the brass handle tightly, turning it and pushing the door roughly open. If he was going to make an entrance, then he was _going _to make an entrance. There was no need to hesitate -- after all, it was _his _manor, wasn't it?

"Back so soon, Pere? That's faster than norm--Luke?!" Guy was indeed in the room, making Luke relax instantly, and he looked up from the book he'd been reading to behold Luke with wide eyes. Luke grinned, shutting the door quickly behind him, reveling in Guy's surprise.

"Haha, you should see the look on your face! I got you good, didn't I? _And _you didn't call me "Master" Luke. I think that's a double-victory for me!"

If Guy thought the situation was funny at all, he didn't show it. Instead, his brow furrowed, and his lips pressed into an unhappy line. "You should be in bed, Master Luke," he said, re-adopting the formal title. "Or at least writing in your journal. _Have _you written in it, yet?"

"No, because the day's not finished. It's not finished until we're finished talking." Luke stayed in front of the door, his back pressed against it, and Guy set his book down on his bedside table.

"Well, we're finished talking, so you should go write in it. You're not supposed to be in the servant's quarters."

"So? No one's around, so it doesn't matter. And you can stop calling me "Master" Luke now. That's starting to get really old."

"That's your title."

"I don't have a title when it comes to you."

"Master Luke -- "

"No, stop it!" Without really thinking about what he was doing, Luke bounded across the room, jumping on top of Guy's bed to glare closer into his face. Once again, Guy's impassiveness gave way to surprise, his clear blue eyes widening. "Stop calling me that! I'm Luke -- just Luke! Just like you're Guy. I don't go around calling you Servant Guy, so you shouldn't call me Master Luke!"

For a split-second, Luke thought Guy was going to laugh. The corners of his lips twitched, and his eyes definitely seemed less hard. But no laughter escaped Guy's lips, and he looked away before Luke could see a smile. "Things aren't that easy," he said instead, looking at the opposite wall. "They really aren't."

"Who says? You were calling me Luke before, so why can't you call me Luke now? And why won't you hang out with me, or talk to me, or anything? Why do you hate me, Guy?" Luke knew that he sounded somewhat whiny, but he didn't care; if whining got Guy to talk to him again, he'd whine for the next six years. Guy looked over at him quickly, his expression incredulous.

"I don't hate you."

"Then why are you avoiding me?" Guy looked away again, and Luke thumped one fist against his thigh, his frustration mounting. "Guy!"

"Because I have to! Damn it, Luke, why can't you see that?" Guy's sudden outburst startled Luke into backing up slightly, causing Guy to look over at him with a somewhat guilty expression. "Sorry, Luke. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's not your fault."

"Then why?" Luke pressed, getting closer again, staring intently at Guy. "Why are you avoiding me?" Guy sighed, and rubbed the back of his head.

"I'm avoiding you because it isn't fit for a nobleman to associate with a commoner. I'm avoiding you because a couple nights ago I wasn't careful enough and one of the servants saw me leaving your room. He told Duke Fabre, and Duke Fabre was . . . not pleased, to say the least. Long story short, he forbade me from ever entering your room again, and warned me against continuing to "fraternize" with you. I haven't been avoiding you because I want to, Luke, or because of anything you did; I've been avoiding you because I have to."

". . . But that's stupid!" Luke couldn't think of a more appropriate response, and he sat back, scowling in the face of Guy's incredulous expression. "Father's being stupid! It's not his decision who I'm friends with and who I'm not, it's mine! You're not doing anything wrong by hanging out with me or by being my friend, so what does he care?"

"To him, being your friend _is _wrong. Because I'm . . . a commoner, and you're the Duke's son. You're basically Kimlascan royalty, Luke."

"So? That doesn't mean anything to me. I barely even see Father, except for when he's telling me to do something or he's angry with me. I spend the most time with _you_, Guy. You're my best friend."

"Luke . . ."

"And here, I got you something to prove it." Luke reached into his pocket, pulling out the choker that he'd gotten earlier, and holding it out to Guy. Guy stared at it, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do, and Luke grinned. It was nice to have Guy be the one staring blankly for once. "You can take it, y'know. It's yours."

Guy seemed to snap out of his stupor, for he reached out to take the choker from Luke's open palms. He studied it closely, his thumb moving over the smooth pendant, his other hand fingering the green band. "You got this for me?" Guy asked, and Luke faltered, unable to tell what Guy's expression and tone meant. Guy didn't seem to be angry, and he looked more surprised than anything, but Luke still wasn't the best at figuring out tones and expressions, and he wasn't sure if Guy's shock was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Yeah. I looked around the manor to try and find something to give you, and I found that in one of the spare rooms." Luke looked away, looking up in one of the upper corners of the room instead. "If you don't like it, you don't have to keep it, but -- "

"Don't be ridiculous, Luke. I love it." Luke looked back, smiling in the face of the sincerity in Guy's words. Guy put the choker around his neck, the medallion falling perfectly in place at the base of his throat. "Thank you."

"Heh. No problem." Luke couldn't help it; the acceptance of his gift filled him with new energy, and he bounced a little on the bed, getting into a new position as he turned fully to face Guy. "So, you're not going to ignore me anymore, right? And you're not going to call me "Master" Luke?" The smile on Guy's face faded, and he leaned back against his headboard.

"Luke . . ."

"I don't care what Father says. I'm the Duke's son, right? And that's why I get all the stuff I do? Well, in that case, I should get to decide who my friends are, and I've decided that _you're _my friend, Guy. You're my servant, yeah, but you're my friend first, and so you're just going to call me Luke. And we're still going to hang out. I'll be bored otherwise."

Guy seemed to consider this -- truly consider it -- his blue gaze locked on Luke. Luke shifted under the scrutiny, but he didn't look away. He was, after all, Luke fon Fabre, son of Duke Fabre and future heir to Kimlasca-Lanvaldear (or so he was told). He wasn't leaving Guy's room until Guy agreed to be his friend again, and that was that.

"You make it nearly impossible to say no, you know that?" Guy asked finally, and Luke grinned, sensing his victory. "I guess so long as the Duke's not around, not addressing you by your title won't be a problem." Luke's grin grew wider, even as Guy gave him a serious look. "But I still can't go near your room. I don't think the other servants will mind me treating you more casually, but I'm not supposed to be in your room and they all know that."

"I have a window, you know," Luke said, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, Guy, you can just use that." To Luke's immense satisfaction, Guy grinned, the smile somewhat lopsided.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't."

"But you _will _stop acting weird, right?" Luke pressed, and Guy chuckled, nodding.

"Yeah, I guess so. You just had to pull out the puppy-eyed look, didn't you?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Luke stuck out his tongue, but then quickly reached out to punch Guy on the arm, his petulant expression shifting into a thoroughly amused one. "Good to have you back, Guy."

"Heheh. Good to be back, Luke."

* * *

Outside the door, Pere listened to the conversation, leaning against the wall. He really was tired, and he had to be up at the crack of dawn to tend to the garden, but . . .

A peal of laughter came audibly through the door, and Pere smiled.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to give them just a few more minutes before he interrupted.

* * *

**Authors' Note: **Just to clarify, because it wasn't explained fully here: it's not that Guy's _afraid _of Duke Fabre, per se; it's just that he was threatened with losing his position/being forced to leave the manor, and not only would leaping at Duke Fabre with a sword drawn not do any good (it'd only land Guy in prison, or possibly worse, and at fifteen he's old enough to realize that), but getting himself fired would ruin his chances for getting answers about Hod, would cut him off from Luke _permanently_, _and _would oust him from the only home he's had for the past ten years. He'd be broke and homeless roaming the streets of Baticul, which would basically make him all kinds of screwed. So, Guy played along with Duke Fabre's desires for those reasons -- not because he was really _afraid _of Duke Fabre or anything. :) Just to clear that up, because it wasn't like Guy was willing to tell Luke all that.

Fortunately, though, Luke's stubborn enough to not stand for Guy's behavior regardless, so the brotherly bond is back on.

Please review!


	6. Lifeguard

**Authors' Note: **A day late on this one, but in my defense, last night was New Year's Eve, and I had things to do. :) Either way, here's the newest one-shot -- hope you like it.

Bit of an age-skip here. Luke is twelve, Natalia is thirteen, and Guy is sixteen. And, well, plenty of people have pools in their mansions, and Guy had to be able to be certified _somehow_ . . . so consider this a little bit of creative license to fill in a plot hole.

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Six: Lifeguard**

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* * *

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Most of the time it was rather convenient for the Fabre Manor to be so close to the palace. It made easier on King Ingobert, for instance, to visit his sister when she was feeling under the weather, and it also made it easier for messengers to ferry messages between the Duke and the royal family. However, it _also _made it easier for pre-teenage princesses to sneak out of the castle and to the Fabre Manor in the middle of the night, and occurrence which was becoming more and more common, much to the dismay of everyone involved -- especially the object of her desires, who wanted very little to do with her.

"I just don't see why she can't leave me alone," Luke complained to Guy one night, pulling his night shirt over his head as he prepared for bed. Guy sat on Luke's windowsill, the windows opened wide, prepared to jump out at a moment's notice if a maid came by to knock on Luke's door. "I wouldn't mind talking to her if she didn't nag me worse than Mother, but she _does. _'Luke, remember your promise.' 'Luke, that isn't the proper way for a noble of Kimlasca to act.' 'Luke, do you really think you should talk to the servants?' She's so annoying! If she'd shut up and be more fun then I'd probably like her more."

"Keep in mind that she's the princess, Luke, and that you two _were _friends once," Guy said, smiling at wryly at Luke's disbelieving expression. "Trust me, you were."

"Were _we _friends then?" Luke asked, raising one hand to indicate between Guy and himself. Guy chuckled a bit awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his head.

"Not . . . not exactly."

"I'd rather be friends with you than Natalia any day. So yeah, she should just leave me alone." Luke jumped onto his bed, flopping back onto his pillows and rolling over to stare up at the ceiling. "Seriously, Natalia just ruins everything. Every day I spend with her is boring, and now she's starting to ruin my sleep, too."

"Cheer up, Luke. I'm sure you'll get plenty of sleep in the coming days. In fact, I'll let you get to sleep now. 'Night, Luke."

"'Night, Guy." Luke still sounded disgruntled with the idea of Natalia, and Guy almost laughed; but as he dropped from Luke's window and landed on the grass just outside of it, he caught a flash of movement from behind a nearby tree, and a brief glimpse of strawberry blonde hair. For a brief second, Guy pondered saying something, but then decided against it; while Natalia didn't exactly condone the idea of Guy being friends with Luke, especially with the way Luke blatantly preferred Guy's company over her own, Guy knew her to be the type of person who wouldn't say a word if he didn't. So long as he kept _her _late night rendezvous a secret, she'd do the same for him. Out of sight, out of mind.

_Besides_, Guy thought, pausing just as he rounded the corner of the manor to look and watch as Natalia climbed up to Luke's window, _she just wants to talk to him, get to know him better since he lost his memory. What's the worst that could happen?_

* * *

A half hour later, Guy was really regretting having asked himself that question.

He couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he found himself opening them again, tossing and turning in his bed to the point where his blankets became tangled fiercely around him. Truthfully, he was surprised he hadn't awoken Pere, for he was sure that his tossing and turning was creating quite a bit of noise in their shared room. But Pere had a labor-intensive job, and his snores were as loud as ever. _The sound of his snoring is probably blocking out the sound of me tossing and turning, _Guy thought dryly. _Jeez, you'd think Pere was sawing down a tree in here. How do _I _manage to sleep at night? Then again, if Pere thinks gardening's exhausting, he's never tried spending the day with Luke . . ._

But then, if that was the case, then why couldn't he sleep? Guy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to fall into automatic slumber. It didn't work. Guy huffed, throwing his covers off and getting out of bed, stumbling for the door so that he could leave the room.

_Maybe some fresh air will help._

Guy didn't know what was keeping him awake, aside from an odd twisting sensation in his gut. If he thought about it for a moment, he could admit that the feeling was anxiety; he was worried about something, although he couldn't place what. What _did _he have to worry about? It'd been over a year since he'd last been in trouble with Duke Fabre -- since he'd last been at risk for being ousted from the Fabre Manor completely -- and Guy knew that he'd become an expert when it came to covering his tracks. There was no way he was going to get caught again. Pere was in excellent health, as far as he knew, and so was Luke--

The feeling in his gut twisted painfully, and Guy frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

Luke. There was something wrong with Luke.

But how could there be something wrong with Luke? Luke had gone to bed. Luke was fine.

But Natalia was sneaking into his room. Guy saw her, plain as day.

But that was _Natalia _-- _Princess Natalia_! What harm could _Natalia _possibly bring to Luke?

No harm _intentionally_, but she overheard the conversation -- she _had _to have overheard it. Maybe, if she tried to make herself seem more fun and interesting, she could inadvertently bring danger to herself _and _to Luke.

But would Luke really go for that? He'd seemed tired, and like he just wanted to go to bed. He'd just brush her off and tell her to leave like he always did, wouldn't he? Or he'd at least just go fetch one of the servants to take her back so that she wouldn't have to wander back to the palace alone. Even Luke was considerate enough to do that.

But even so . . .

Guy glanced down at himself. He wasn't dressed properly to go wandering through the manor, especially if Natalia was still in Luke's room. All he was wearing was a pair of pants that he used to sleep in, and to appear bare-chested in front of the Princess of Kimlasca . . . Well, it wasn't proper, to say the least. Even so, all Guy wanted to do was just check and see if Luke was in his room, and all _that _required was knocking on the door. Just a quick knock on the door, a confirmation that Luke was there, and then Guy would be on his way. Simple, a piece of cake.

With the feeling of growing alarm in his gut, it took all Guy had not to run to Luke's room, and instead keep his pace down to a purposeful walk.

When he reached Luke's room, Guy paused outside it for a few moments, listening hard. There were no sounds coming from inside -- no hushed voices, no footsteps or sounds of a struggle. It was perfectly, innocently quiet, and yet . . . Guy raised his hand, tapping twice against the door.

"Hey, Luke?" he called, too anxious (needlessly or otherwise) to feel foolish. "You in there?" Guy waited, but received no response, and so -- knowing that he was risking life and limb if Natalia was still present in the room -- Guy reached down, capturing the handle in his hand and twisting it sharply. "Luke?"

Empty. The room was empty. Guy stood frozen in the doorway, the anxiety in his stomach jolting through him, setting his adrenaline on fire. Fortunately, Guy was not the type of person to panic. Even when his senses screamed at him to panic, Guy could keep his cool, and he forced himself to do just that as he surveyed the room. At first, nothing seemed to be _too _out of place, but it was then that Guy noticed the clothes that were tossed onto Luke's bed -- his pajamas. Wherever he'd went, Luke had changed outfits to go there. Chances were that if Guy could figure out what outfit Luke changed into, he could figure out exactly where Luke had gone.

Fortunately, Guy's investigation of the room didn't take long to turn up results. The good thing about Luke (or bad thing, depending on which way you looked at it) was that he was sloppy; when he opened drawers, he didn't bother to close them, figuring that someone else would be along to do it for him later. For this reason, Guy was able to find the dresser drawer that Luke had last been in, and was able to immediately recognize what was missing.

_His swim shorts. They went to the pool?! What the hell are they doing at the pool at this hour? _Guy shut the drawer, spinning on his heel and running out into the hall. The question of _why_, after all, was irrelevant. It didn't matter _why _they went to the pool, only that they were _safe _while they were there -- and given the fact that the servant who normally stood guard by the poolside had already gone to bed for the night, Guy wasn't so sure they were.

_They could be fine, _he reasoned as he threaded his way toward the corridors, making his way for the basement stairs as quickly as he could. _Luke's a good swimmer, and I'm sure Natalia's not so bad herself. They could be fine. Just enjoying some water before they go to bed._

_Or, _said a nagging little voice at the back of his mind, the same little mind that twisted the knife weighing heavily in his stomach, _something could be very, very wrong._

Despite the fact that the pool was in the basement of the manor, located at the extreme southern end, Guy reached it in record time, practically sprinting through the polished basement level corridors. The pool was located in its own _soundproof _room in the basement, and it was for this reason that Guy didn't hear Natalia's screaming until he wrenched open the door, the scent of chlorine almost overpowering, Natalia's cries bouncing easily off the tiled walls.

"_LUKE! _Oh no, oh no, you c - can't be--you c - can't--no, no, no, no, no--_LUKE_!"

Natalia was crouched by the deep end of the pool, tears streaming down her face, hazel eyes focused intently on one spot in the water. Guy followed her line of sight, his eyes instantly focusing on the spot of red near the bottom of the pool.

The spot of _unmoving _red.

Guy bolted around the pool, leaping for the water as soon as he was close enough to the deep end. He hit the water in a dive, the sound of Natalia's hysterical screaming cutting off as soon as his head was beneath the surface. Guy cut easily through the water, reaching down to grab Luke around his stomach and haul the boy back toward the surface. As soon as Guy's head broke the water, Natalia's screaming pierced his ears again, though this time it didn't sound as terrified, if not just as frantic.

"Oh, G - Guy, th - thank go - goodness! Is he a - alive? He - He looks d - dead! Oh, no, he looks dead, he looks like he's drowned--!"

"Please calm down, Your Highness," Guy grunted, setting Luke up on the side of the pool before climbing up himself. "I've got this under control." He laid Luke flat on his back, craning his head down to listen by Luke's mouth. _Water. That's definitely water I hear. Water and no air. _Guy set his hands directly beneath Luke's ribcage, beginning chest compressions, pumping hard to try to get the water out of his lungs. _C'mon, Luke. Spit it out. Breathe, Luke, c'mon . . ._

"I to - told him no - not to run, but he w - wouldn't _listen_, and then he _slipped _and I didn't know what to _do _because I don't know how to swim under_water_ and--oh! He's coughing! He's choking!"

"No, he's breathing." Guy reached down to help Luke turn so that he could cough and sputter the water up, emptying it out of his lungs in buckets. Despite all of his retching, however, Luke stayed unconscious, and it was only when he slumped back, body limp, that Guy noticed the blood that stained Luke's face, right above his eye, streaming down from his hair. "Princess Natalia, did he hit his head?"

"_Yes_," Natalia moaned, swiping an arm across her eyes. Her sobbing turned to hiccups as Luke started breathing shakily, having emptied most of the water from his chest. "He was ru - running even though I to - told him not to and he hi - hit his he - head, and I _wanted _to save him but I _co - couldn't _because I haven't learned how to swi - swim underwater yet and I wa - wasn't close enough to grab him when he--where are you going?!"

"Stopping the bleeding is most important, now that we've got him breathing." Guy was already up and across the pool room, swiping a towel off one of the racks before quickly walking back over to Luke and Natalia, kneeling down by Luke's prone -- yet breathing, thank Yulia he was breathing -- form. Quickly, Guy located the wound, pressing the towel against it before quickly wrapping the towel around Luke's head. That accomplished, Guy maintained pressure on the wound point, glancing up at Natalia's tear-streaked face. Guy smiled faintly. "He'll be all right, Your Highness. He'll be okay."

"O - Oh, thank goodness." Natalia wiped at her eyes again, her lower lip still trembling. "Th - This is all my fault. A - All of it! I shouldn't have suggested we come here, not this late . . ."

"No, you shouldn't have." Natalia winced at Guy's words. "But what's done is done, and the important thing is that you two are all--" Guy's eyes snapped back down to Luke's face as Luke winced, green eyes blinking slowly open. "Hey, Luke. You awake? Can you hear me?"

"Urgh. . . . Guy?" Luke's voice sounded hoarse and scratchy, and Luke lifted one hand to touch his throat. "Agh . . ."

"Throat hurt?" Luke nodded, yet then winced, as if the action hurt. "Your head too, I'll bet. You hit it pretty hard."

Luke groaned again, his hand reaching up to touch the towel that Guy still had wrapped tightly around his head. ". . . A towel?" Luke asked, sounding confused, yet then the confusion receded, his expression becoming more understanding. "A towel . . . I needed a towel . . ."

"Oh, Luke!" Natalia moved closer, and it took all of Guy's self control not to drop Luke in an effort to move back. Now that the immediate danger had passed, Guy was more aware of Natalia's close proximity, both to Luke and to himself. "I was so scared! You were under the water and then you were unconscious and I didn't know what to do--"

"Shut up," Luke groaned, shutting his eyes. Guy chuckled, though quickly stifled his laughter as Natalia looked up at him, hazel eyes flashing.

"Well, we better get a move on. We can't stay here all night, and you'll need someone to look at your head, Luke." Guy stood, grunting a bit as he lifted Luke into his arms, Luke's eyes opening again to look at Guy in surprise.

"Guy . . . I can wa--"

"Nope." Guy cut Luke off, shaking his head. "You probably have a concussion. No walking for you. Also, make sure to keep that towel around your head, all right? Just in case." Luke reached up to hold the towel in place with one hand and Guy paused, looking back at Natalia. "Your Highness? You should probably come as well. I'm sure the guards will want to escort you back to the castle."

"Couldn't I stay with Luke?" Natalia asked, pushing herself to her feet at last. Guy started walking away, mindful of the distance between himself and the princess. "I want to make sure he'll be okay."

"'m fine," Luke called, wincing at the strain on his throat. Guy shifted his hold on Luke so that he could open the door, holding it open for Natalia first before walking through himself.

"Luke will be fine, Your Highness," he said, making sure the door to the pool was shut before following along. "You really do need to return to the palace. I'm sure you're exhausted, and you need your sleep."

Natalia looked as though she was going to argue, but a yawn interrupted any argument she would have made. Guy laughed, causing Natalia's cheeks to tint pink.

"See? Sleep. It'll do ya good." Glancing down at Luke, he added, "Except for you, Luke. You need to stay awake."

"No problem," Luke muttered, despite the fact that his eyes were half closed. "This's too bumpy for a ride for me t'sleep."

"Uh-huh. Let's make sure to keep it that way."

* * *

Sleep would have done everyone good, Guy thought, himself included. Unfortunately, such a thing just wasn't in his cards. The Fabre family doctor lived in the doctor like the other servants and Guy had gone to his room first, waking him up to alert him to the fact that Luke had not only almost drowned, but had hit his head as well. After Guy was positive that the doctor was up and getting ready, Guy carried Luke back to his room, waiting just outside until the doctor arrived (he didn't want Duke Fabre angry with him again) before calling for the guards to escort Natalia back to the palace. All _that _done, Guy waited outside of Luke's open window, listening as the doctor made his diagnosis (Luke would need rest, and a maid would have to wake him every couple of hours), and finally as everyone left Luke's room to allow him to get some rest. Only then did Guy stand, blinking against the rays of the rising sun, climbing up to sit on Luke's windowsill.

"Still awake, Luke?" he asked softly. A lethargically raised arm was his only answer. Guy chuckled. "Stupid question, I guess. You need your sleep. I'll leave."

"No." Luke rolled over in his bed, raising his head slightly so that he could get a good look at Guy. "I wanna ask something." His voice was still rough from the water, but otherwise clear. Guy raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"How'd you know where me and Natalia were? We didn't tell anyone. How'd you know to go there?"

_Instinct, intuition -- who knows? _"Guess I just know you better than you know yourself, Luke," Guy replied easily, shrugging. "Just had a feeling something was up and decided to follow my hunch. Good thing I did, too, or you'd still be -- well, you wouldn't be here." It wasn't exactly a thought Guy was comfortable with, and he banished it from his head.

"Yeah. You've got good timing." Luke yawned, rolling over to lay on his back again. Guy grinned.

"It's what I'm here for. But get some sleep, okay? I'm sure Rosie'll be in here to wake you up again in just a couple hours."

"Yay," Luke returned sarcastically, the word punctured by a yawn. Guy chuckled, turning and dropping out of Luke's window, turning to head back to his own room. In just a few hours he'd have to be awake himself, up with all the other servants despite the fact that he'd spent the most of the night awake. After all, even if his young master was going to spend the day resting in bed, Guy would have to be up and ready to work.

_Oh well. The important thing is, Luke's okay. And I learned something valuable, anyway -- trust my instincts. Haven't led me wrong yet, and probably never will. _Guy yawned, rubbing at his eyes. _Hopefully, anyway._

* * *

**Authors' Note: **And thus why Luke sees a towel and automatically thinks it should be wrapped around his head. See, it's all Guy's fault Luke has bad fashion sense! Not that that's what Guy intended . . .

Please review!


	7. One Who Would Seize Glory

**Authors' Note:** Bit of a time-jump here -- Luke is thirteen, and Guy is seventeen, and Van is twenty-three. Speaking of Van, you get a nice change of pace by having the first part of this chapter be from his perspective. I tried to write it from Guy's and then from Luke's, but it just seemed to fit the best coming from Van's. Hope you don't mind. :)

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Seven: One Who Would Seize Glory**

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* * *

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There wasn't very much that surprised Commandant Vandesdelca Grants anymore. After the destruction of Hod, he'd sworn to never again fall victim to surprise -- to never again let himself be at fate's mercy. But even so, sometimes there were things that even he could predict, things that caught him off-guard and unsure of what to do next. Sometimes, there were things that could make his perfectly controlled expression falter for just a half-second, just enough time to let everyone around him know that he wasn't expecting the sight before his eyes.

Gailardia Galan Gardios and the replica Luke fon Fabre were in the garden, unaware of his presence. Luke, it seemed, was trying to reach something up in a tree -- a kite, it seemed -- and as a result Gailardia was balancing Luke on his shoulders, letting Luke ride on top of him. Luke was laughing, seeming to enjoy the ride more than the attempt to get the kite, and Gailardia was smiling as well, though his smile looked a bit sheepish and exasperated.

"Luke, c'mon. Just grab the kite, it's right there!"

"I'm trying, Guy, but you're not moving close enough! Move _closer_!"

"I'm right up against the tree! Why don't you just climb up and get it your--"

"No, I've almost got it! Jeez, Guy, if you'd just spend less time complaining and more time moving closer--"

"I'm close enough! It's right there!"

"Maybe if I stand up--"

"On my _shoulders_? Are you _cra_--hey, _Luke_!"

"Hang on, I've almost got it!"

As Luke tried to stand on Guy's shoulders, wobbling unsteadily as he tried to kneel first, Van stepped out into the garden, deciding to make his presence known at last.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but would you happen to be Young Master Luke fon Fabre?"

Guy and Luke turned at the same time, Luke placing both hands on top of Guy's head to keep from falling, both eyes going wide, though in different ways; Luke merely looked curious, whereas Guy's blue eyes widened in shock before his expression shifted into mere recognition. Van nodded once in his direction, the coldness he felt toward Luke tempered by the warmth he felt for Guy. Guy had certainly grown in the years they'd been apart, changed dramatically from the trembling five-year-old who'd been afraid of everything to the seventeen-year-old that Van saw before him. Van regretted not being able to see that change for himself.

"Yeah? And who are you?" Luke's tone was almost rude, and if Van had cared more, he might have felt offended.

"That's the Commandant, Luke," Guy said, and his voice sounded strangely choked, his eyes not leaving Van's face. "The Commandant of the Order of Lorelei."

"Commandant of the Order of Lorelei?" Luke leaned down, craning his neck to get a good look at Guy's face, though Guy still didn't look away from Van. "What's that?"

"You know what the Order of Lorelei is, Luke. I told you. They're stationed in Daath and they protect Yulia's Score." Luke's expression showed that he very clearly didn't understand, but he said nothing. "The Commandant is the leader of the Oracle Knights, the soldiers that serve the Order of Lorelei."

"You're quite knowledgeable," Van remarked, but Guy still seemed to be too shell-shocked to feel anything else, for his expression didn't change.

"I need to be."

"Everything that he has said is correct, Luke," Van said, shifting his gaze to the redhead sitting on Guy's shoulders. Luke looked up, leaning forward on Guy's head once more, watching Van curiously. "I am Commandant Van Grants of the Order of Lorelei. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"What are you doing here?" Luke asked, not returning the courtesy. Van's forced cordial smile turned into something of a smirk. Luke had none of the manners that Asch had. If Van didn't know better, he'd say that the replica hadn't grown up as a replacement noble after all. "I mean, why'd you come looking for me?"

Van put one hand on his sword hilt, something that seemed to draw Luke's eyes like a magnet, before speaking ahead. "At the request of Duke Fabre, I'm going to begin giving you lessons in sword training, Luke. According to your parents, it's something you're very excited to learn. Were they--"

"You are?!" Luke interrupted, a broad grin breaking across his face. He'd sat up straighter, knocking his feet against Guy's chest and his hands against Guy's head, which caused Guy to wince and seemed to break him free of the shock-induced stupor he'd been in before. "Awesome! When do we start? Can we start soon? Can we start _now_?"

Van laughed -- he couldn't help it. Despite the fact that Luke was only a replica -- just a pawn set to die in Asch's place in the next four years -- his enthusiasm was amusing. Then again, the very fact that he thought that he was the actual Luke fon Fabre was amusing. "That was the plan," he said. "That is, if Guy would care to put you down."

"Yeah, Guy, put me down." Luke tapped Guy's head impatiently. Guy rolled his eyes, crouching down so that Luke could hop off his shoulders.

"Take it easy, Luke. Van's not going anywhere." Guy's eyes flashed back up to Van's face, and despite the fact that he'd grown accustomed to reading people's moods based off their expressions, Van couldn't place the emotion in Guy's suddenly dark blue eyes. "Are you?"

"Not for a little while," Van answered, locking gazes with Guy. "I do need to give Luke his first lesson, after all." Van looked down at Luke, who was practically bouncing on the spot, looking ready to explode with excitement. "Luke, why don't you go grab your sword? We will meet in the courtyard to begin your first lesson."

"Yes, sir!" Luke turned to run off, yet then stopped, spinning on the spot. "Or, should I call you master? You're going to give me more than just this lesson, aren't you?"

"Unless Duke Fabre changes your mind about your sword training, then yes, I am."

"He better not. I'd be so mad if he did! But all right! I'll get my sword and be in the courtyard in a flash, Master Van!" Turning again, Luke bolted toward the manor, throwing open the closest door and sprinting inside without even bothering to shut the door again. Without a word Guy walked after, shutting the door behind Luke with a shake of his head.

"He gets so excited that he doesn't even think . . ."

"So he's always this energetic, Gailardia Galan?" Van spoke as he turned to walk toward the courtyard, but he saw Guy stiffen out of the corner of his eye, and could see the troubled expression on Guy's face as the blond swordsman turned back toward Van.

"Luke's temperamental. He can be bored and lethargic one second and thrilled and energetic the next." Guy jogged until he could match stride with Van, and Van glanced over to see that Guy's eyes were once again focused intently on his own face. "How did this happen?"

"How did what happen?"

"How did you end up here, teaching Luke? I knew that Duke Fabre was going to hire someone to teach Luke the ways of the sword, but I didn't know it would be you."

"Why wouldn't it? Though he may not remember, this is not the first time he's met me." It wasn't a lie. Van had, after all, been there when the replica was created. Had heard every one of Asch's screams as the data was extracted from him to create the replica, had seen the replica when it was unconscious but breathing after first being created, each breath coming out ragged and shallow. He hadn't spent much time with the replica -- couldn't let the replica remember having seen him at Choral Castle -- but he'd been there when Sync had brought the clothes for the replica to be clothed in and when Dist had deposited him in an empty, cobwebbed room. "I'm familiar with the Duke and Duchess as well. It's only natural they would appoint me as his teacher."

"True. Come to think of it, I remember hearing something about you visiting the manor a long time ago. . . ." Guy looked away, down at the grass, before speaking up again. "Why didn't you come see me during those times? It wasn't as if you were forbidden. I've been Luke's babysitter since I got here."

"What reason would I have had to seek out a random servant? In the interest of keeping your true identity a secret, I had to pretend as if I didn't know you." Van reached out, putting a hand on Guy's shoulder. "Believe me, Gailardia, when I say I wish I could have sought you out."

"Yeah," Guy muttered, glancing up as they neared the courtyard. "Me too."

"Speaking of your position, however, it seems as if you are more than just his babysitter." Luke wasn't in the courtyard yet, leaving it empty, and open for conversation. As they moved to stand near the middle of it Van turned, facing Guy completely. "From what I saw before I interrupted, you two seem to be friends."

"Well, yeah. I mean, after we found him at Choral Castle, he had amnesia. He didn't remember anything, and because of that I ended up raising him . . ." Guy rubbed at the back of his head, looking distinctly troubled as he picked a random point beyond Van to focus on. "I guess that made us closer."

Amnesia. Van supposed that was what a replica's blank slate would look like to people who didn't know the difference. It was almost funny, in a way, how no one had noticed -- not Guy, who'd been Luke's appointed babysitter since he was a year old, nor his parents, who were responsible for his birth. None of them had realized that the replica deposited in their laps was just that -- a _replica_, while the _real _Luke fon Fabre was still missing. Van wondered how Asch would react if he heard Guy say that he was close to the replica, given that Asch himself had told Van that he and Guy never really had a close friendship. Van knew that Asch was already bitter about the replica taking his place in Baticul; he wondered how Asch would feel if that fact was flaunted in front of his face -- if he returned to the manor to see just how perfectly the replica seemed to fit in.

In a way, Van felt sorry for Asch. But a larger part of him didn't. Asch's life would be saved, after all, when he didn't get sent to Akzeriuth, but the replica did instead. The Score be damned, Van had done Asch a favor.

"It's funny how these things work out, isn't it?" Van asked, bringing Guy's attention back to him. "With how close you are to Luke now, it's almost as if you've forgotten about Hod."

"I haven't forgotten Hod, Vandesdelca." Guy's voice was as hard as his eyes, and Van's lips curled upward. Good. Hod was still a nerve to be struck. "But Luke had nothing to do with that -- Duke Fabre did."

"Isn't Luke part of your plan to get revenge on the Duke?"

"He --"

"Master Van, I'm ready!" Luke's voice rang out in the courtyard at the same time that a door was thrown open with enough force to crack back against the wall, and both Van and Guy turned in time to see Luke sprinting across the courtyard again, his red hair fanning out behind him. The tips of his hair were lighter than Asch's, Van noticed. Asch's hair was of a darker shade, whereas Luke's was more vibrant. _It fits, _he thought, closing his eyes briefly. _The light of the sacred flame _would _have lighter hair than the charred remains of the sacred flame. _As Luke came nearer to them he slowed down, looking over at Guy in confusion. "Guy? What are you doing here?"

Guy raised an eyebrow. "Do you not want me here, Luke?"

"Well, I'm the one getting trained, right? Right?" Luke looked back and forth between Van and Guy, frowning. "Master Van, you're not training Guy too, are you? He's already had a sword for a long time now! If he sucks, then it's too late to fix it, right?"

Van laughed, though the laughter wasn't as natural this time. All that Luke said sounded like nothing more than irrational babble. "Calm yourself, Luke. I'm only going to teach you."

"Yeah, I have a feeling Van's style wouldn't be right for me, anyway. Not that I _suck_," Guy stressed, reaching over to tap his knuckles lightly against the top of Luke's head, "but just because we have slightly different styles."

"How do you know?" Luke asked, still frowning in Guy's direction. Guy shrugged.

"We talked about it before you got here. Speaking of which, you sure took your sweet time. What was the hold up?"

"Mother wanted to give me a safety lecture." Luke rolled his eyes. "Like there's going to be any danger with Master Van!"

"Are you always so quick to trust, Luke?" Van asked, and Luke shook his head, his annoyed expression shifting into a smile as bright as the sun. _Guy was right, he _is _temperamental. _

"No, but you're here to teach me the sword, right? So there's no way you're a bad guy, _especially _since you're the Commandant of the Order of Lorelei. Nothing could go wrong!"

Van was entirely certain of one fact at that point: there was no way that Luke would get out of dying at Akzeriuth. He was far too naïve, far too _trusting_, far too _stupid _to get out of it. Van had barely known the replica for ten minutes, and yet the replica already trusted him completely. Van could only imagine how the replica would trust him in the coming years, especially in the time leading up to Akzeriuth's destruction. When the time came for Akzeriuth to meet the same fate as Hod, Van had no doubt that Luke would be the one to instigate it. No doubt whatsoever.

"I'm sure Van has plenty to teach you, Luke. I'll just watch from over there. I'm curious to see how this will go." Guy reached out, ruffling Luke's red hair, not even batting an eye as Luke reached up to swipe his hand away.

"Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up so Master Van and I can start, Guy!" Luke's head whipped back around to Van, all annoyance gone in favor of that newfound adoration. "We can start right away, right? I've got my sword and everything!" Luke held it up as evidence, his hand clasped tightly around the sheathed blade. Van nodded.

"Yes, we can start immediately, but first you'll need to equip that sword. Tell me, Luke, are you right or left handed?"

"Left," Luke answered immediately. The answer caused Van's brow to furrow. Asch was right handed, and as a perfect replica, Van would have expected the same to hold true for Luke. Then again, Luke was showing more personality than most replicas, even if he had been alive for three years. . . . Well, it didn't matter.

"Then you'll want to equip your sword in a way that will make it easily accessible to your left hand," Van said, walking forward to take the sword from Luke's hands. "Judging from its length it wouldn't do for it to be strapped to your back, and I'm not able to picture you carrying yours as I carry mine--"

"Why not? Yours looks so cool the way you carry it, Master Van," Luke interrupted, his green eyes flashing briefly down to the sword Van carried on his hip. Van smiled thinly.

"It wouldn't suit you, Luke. However . . ." Van reached down, hooking the sword to the back of Luke's belt so that it was strapped behind him, the hilt sticking out to the left. "If you equip it this way, then--"

"Agh!"

"Luke!"

Without warning Luke cried out, his face contorting in pain and his hands going to his head as he fell to his knees. Guy was across the courtyard and by his side in a flash, one hand on Luke's shoulder, his full attention on the replica. Van watched the scene through narrowed eyes, recognizing the energy pulsing off Luke. _It's similar to hyperresonance, _he thought. _But why would it be active now . . . ?_

"Luke, are you okay?" Guy asked, and his voice brought Van back to the present as Luke lowered his hands, his expression relaxing. Luke nodded.

"Y - Yeah . . . It's going away now. It's gone."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should go inside and get some rest. It's been a little while since you've had one of those headaches, and--"

"I said I'm fine! Jeez, Guy, you're starting to sound like Mother." Luke stood up, Guy standing with him, and Guy folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm just looking out for you, Luke. Your headache might be gone, but you still look pale."

"But I feel fine. Besides, it's not like going inside'll do me any good. I'll just be bored, and the doctors don't know what causes these headaches, anyway. It's just been happening ever since the incident with Malkuth."

"Incident with Malkuth?" Van asked. Both Luke and Guy looked over at him, their expressions suggesting that they almost forgot his presence. Luke nodded, reaching up to absently rub at his temple again. Van saw Guy's eyes dart to Luke, and noticed how Guy seemed to frown at the action.

"Yeah. Three years ago I was kidnapped by the Malkuth empire. Ever since then I've had amnesia and I get these stupid headaches."

"I see." Van rested one hand upon his sword hilt, scrutinizing Luke. Asch didn't receive any similar headaches, and Van had to wonder if it was because of the replication process that Luke did. Then again, why would the replication process activate mild hyperresonance randomly? Luke was comprised entirely out of seventh fonons, true, and he had the power of hyperresonance just as Asch did, but to receive spontaneous headaches . . . it didn't make sense.

"In any case, Luke, Van said that he'd be here for a little while. So you really should get some rest. I'm sure he'll be willing to train with you later."

"No, Guy, I want to train _now_! My headache's gone, so why don't you just let me train and be done with it? Master Van? Can we start training now?" Luke looked back to Van, his expression screaming impatience, and Van looked over at Guy, who was visibly bothered. Van smiled.

"I don't see the harm in it, so long as you're feeling all right." Luke let out a wordless cheer, punching the air with his fist, and Guy looked even more disgruntled than before. "Guy, why don't you stay and watch? That way, if Luke does face any sort of difficulties, you can take him back into the manor."

"Yeah, I'll do that." Guy took a deep breath and let it out, seeming to relax at that, and then walked back over to sit on the bench he'd been occupying previously. Luke sent Guy an annoyed look before turning his full attention back to Van, looking as energetic and eager as a young puppy.

"Ready when you are, Master Van!"

"Good, Luke. Good. The first thing we'll need to work on is your stance . . ."

* * *

Van's training had only lasted for an hour and a half before he called it quits, using dinner as the main reason. To Luke's delight, Van had stayed to have dinner in the manor, and all throughout dinner Luke pestered Van with questions, his attention held fast by the Commandant. As a servant, Guy wasn't allowed to eat dinner with the rest of them, but against his better judgment he'd listened by the door. If he said he wasn't a little jealous he'd be lying, but truth be told, Guy wasn't sure if he was more jealous of Luke for getting to have such an extended conversation with Van, or if he was more jealous of Van for getting such adoration from Luke -- adoration that Luke had previously only shown to him.

Van had left the manor after dinner -- citing going back to his room at the Baticul inn as his reason -- but even after he left he was all Luke could talk about, telling anyone who would listen about how cool Master Van was and how excited he was for future lessons, and how much he'd learned already. In truth, all he'd learned was a proper stance and the proper way to draw his sword, but if you asked Luke, he was already well on his way to become a practiced swordsman.

"I just already feel so strong!" Luke gushed, closing his journal and turning to face Guy. From his vantage point on Luke's windowsill, Guy had seen Luke write a full three pages about the day's events. Normally it was a struggle to get him to even write one. "Master Van is seriously the coolest person alive, hands down."

"Even cooler than me?" Guy asked, his tone teasing and light. Luke rolled his eyes.

"No contest. Seriously, Guy, how could you even hope to compare?" Luke got out of his chair and ran over to jump on his bed, crawling across it until he was sitting up against his pillows, closer to Guy. Guy frowned.

"Gee, thanks, Luke."

"I'd say sorry, but I was only speaking the truth. Not my fault if the truth hurts."

Now it was Guy's turn to roll his eyes, though he let the subject drop. He couldn't really blame Luke for being so enamored with Van; after all, Van was an amazing person. He'd been somewhat of a mentor to Guy before the destruction of Hod, before the slaughter of his family. Van exuded an air of superiority that didn't feel condescending or insulting, and so it was only natural for Luke to feel so attached to Van, especially with the promise of swordplay.

But that didn't really help to take the sting off.

"How often do you think Master Van'll come around?" Luke asked, breaking Guy free of his thoughts. Guy sighed.

"I don't know, Luke. As Commandant of the Oracle Knights, he's a pretty busy guy. Maybe once a month, if you're lucky."

"Once a month?! That's too long of a wait! Once a week sounds better. Or maybe twice a week. Or maybe every day." Luke grinned so broadly Guy was surprised it didn't hurt his cheeks. "Wouldn't it be awesome if he could come every day?"

"Yeah. Really awesome."

"You don't sound too excited," Luke noted, and then laughed. "But I guess that's because _you _don't get to be trained by him. Jealous, Guy?"

"Laugh it up, Luke. Laugh it up. He'll be knocking you flat in no time. Van's not the Commandant for nothing, after all; once you start sparring with him, I'm sure you'll have your fair share of having your face meet the ground."

"Yeah, right! I'll be a master swordsman in no time flat! You just watch and see!"

Guy chuckled. "Well, if you wanna be a master swordsman, you're going to need to get your sleep. And for that, I'll need to leave so that you _can _get it."

"You always leave so early nowadays," Luke complained, his bright smile gone in favor of a pout. "What's the rush?"

"No rush. I just think you need some sleep. Besides, you hang out with me all day. No need for me to keep you awake all night talking, too." Guy saluted with two fingers, swinging his legs over to hop out of Luke's window. "G'night, Luke."

Luke heaved an exaggerated sigh, but Guy could see the smile in his eyes. "'Night, Guy."

Guy hopped down from Luke's window, starting across the yard to go to his own room. Halfway across, though, he stopped, one hand going down to his sheath, the other to the hilt of his sword. The outer edge of the manor was surrounded by trees, and he was almost positive that he detected movement from behind one of them. There were guards on duty around the clock to guard against intruders getting into the manor -- even three years after the kidnapping the Duchess was not about to ease up on the protection -- but guards weren't always foolproof. If they were, then Luke wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place.

A flash of movement to his right caught Guy's eye and Guy spun, unsheathing his sword just in time to have it met by another blade. The sound of steel against steel rang out in the silent grass, but Guy didn't stop there, bringing his sheath up in a swing toward the intruder's head. The intruder parried Guy's initial swing, twisting his arm to knock Guy's sheath to the side. Guy jumped back to put a bit of distance between himself and the intruder before swinging his sword in a low arc, the shockwave from a Demon Fang cutting across the grass.

The intruder sidestepped the attack, following through to close the distance between them once again. Quicker than Guy could dodge the intruder kicked him, knocking Guy back onto the ground and simultaneously knocking the air from Guy's lungs. Guy moved to sit up, but the point of the intruder's sword was beneath his chin before he could, causing him to be as still as he could manage under the circumstances.

"You fight well, Gailardia Galan." The deep rumble was instantly familiar and Guy's eyes widened as he got his first good look at the intruder. Van chuckled, pulling his sword away and sheathing it before extending a hand to Guy. "However, you'll want to work on not leaving yourself so open. I shouldn't have been able to get the edge on you so easily."

"Yeah, well, you're the Commandant of the Order of Lorelei. I'm Luke's babysitter. Obviously you're going to get more practice than I am, aren't you?" Guy reached up and took Van's hand, allowing Van to pull him to his feet before he put his own sword away. "Jeez, but did you have to just attack me like that? What are you doing back here, anyway? You left hours ago, and I'm sure the guards were more than a bit surprised to see you back."

Van smiled, and Guy got the feeling that he was missing something. "The guards don't even know I'm here."

"What? How'd you manage that one?"

"I have my ways."

Guy frowned, but Van seemed inclined to not say more on the subject. Instead, he started walking off, and motioned for Guy to follow him. Any fatigue that Guy might have felt from being up all day was gone in the face of seeing Van again, and he followed without a single word of protest.

"It has been a long time since I last saw you," Van began. "A long time before today, I mean. You've grown quite a bit, Gailardia."

"You've changed a lot yourself, Van. It's been twelve years, after all." Guy put his hands in his pockets, taking in a deep breath and letting it out again. Van chuckled.

"Yes . . . I suppose I have, but not as much as you. What is that you're wearing around your neck?" At Van's words, Guy's hand moved up to touch the medallion that rested against the base of his neck. "It looks like a dog collar."

"It's a choker," Guy answered, and he couldn't help the fact that his correction sounded a little defensive. "Luke gave it to me two years ago. I guess you could call it a symbol of our friendship."

"Your friendship? Hmm."

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Just that you really _are _close to him, aren't you?"

"It's been three years since I found him at Choral Castle, and a lot has happened since then." Guy looked up, his eyes tracing over the fon belt that streaked through the starry sky. "Nothing really traumatic or anything -- not in the grand scheme of things, anyway -- but . . . well, a lot of days have passed, and I've spent every one of them with Luke, for the most part. When we first found him, he couldn't even remember how to walk. I had to teach him that. I had to teach him _everything_. So of course I grew close to him, Van. How could I not?"

"Hm." Van grunted a short laugh, and Guy looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "The way you talk, it seems as if you treat him more like a brother than a master or friend."

Guy stopped, turning to face Van fully, and Van mimicked the action. "Yeah, but I'm not the first servant to treat his young master like that, am I?" Guy asked quietly. "I learned from the best, Vandesdelca Fende."

Van was silent, and Guy almost felt as if Van was searching him for something, as if Van's gaze could pierce deeper than a normal person's. Seconds later, though, and Van smiled, reaching out to put a hand on Guy's shoulder.

"I suppose you did, Master Gailardia." Van removed his hand, looking back toward the manor, his voice returning to its normal volume. "I doubt that I have to say this, given what you've already told me, but do your best to keep him safe, Gailardia. Keep him out of trouble for me."

"For you?" Guy furrowed his brow. Van nodded.

"Yes. I still plan to resurrect Mary -- and the rest of Hod -- and I feel that Luke will prove instrumental in making that dream a realization." Van glanced over at Guy. "From everything you've told me so far, I trust that you still wish for that to happen?"

Guy felt a lump the size of a cinderblock slide into his throat, cutting off his words. How was Luke instrumental to resurrecting Hod? Then again, Guy didn't see how it would be possible to bring his sister or Hod back to begin with, but if Van had his ways . . . did he really want it to happen?

"Gailardia?"

"Yeah." Guy nodded, making his decision before he could over-think it, swallowing the cinderblock so that it landed in his stomach instead. "I do."

"Then keep Luke safe. I promise that there will be a time for both your revenge against the Duke and King and the resurrection of Hod later, but you must keep Luke safe for now." Guy smiled wryly, canting his weight to one side.

"Like you said before, you really don't need to tell me to do that."

There was something in Van's answering smile that Guy couldn't place -- couldn't even tell if he liked it or not. "Good." Van glanced at something over Guy's shoulder, then, and before Guy could turn to see what it was placed one hand upon Guy's head. "I must be going now. I really only came to speak to you, since Luke didn't give us very much time earlier." Guy could hear the amusement in Van's voice, and he chuckled a bit in response. "Until next time, Gailardia Galan."

"See you, Van." Van was turning away before Guy finished his sentence, and despite his size seemed to disappear quickly into the trees. It wasn't until he was gone that Guy sensed the presence behind him, and he turned to find one of the manor guards striding up to him, a frown on the guard's face.

"Guy? What are you doing out here so late? I thought you were an intruder."

"Just thought I'd take a walk. No need to worry, Liam." Guy shrugged, making his grin a bit larger and more easygoing. Liam smiled in response, the exact reaction Guy was looking for.

"Bit weird to take a walk this late at night, but if you say so . . ."

"I do, but now I think I'm gonna get some sleep. Gotta be up bright and early tomorrow, and no doubt Master Luke will run me ragged."

"Yeah, no kidding. I swear, if he tries to leave the manor grounds one more time . . ." Liam made strangling motions in the air and Guy laughed, reaching out to clap Liam on the shoulder once as he walked past.

"Don't worry, I'll keep him out of trouble. Breathe easy, Liam." _After all, I promised both Luke _and _Van. Can't let them down, can I? What kind of brother would I be?_

"I'll try, Guy, I'll try. Get some sleep, yeah?"

Guy turned to look back at Liam, but instead looked past him, almost able to see the ghost of Van where he'd stood. "Yeah," he responded, tearing his eyes away, his casual demeanor a bit more forced than it had been. "I'll try."

* * *

**Authors' Note: **I can't remember if Guy _knew _that Van was trying to raise Hod and then just changed his mind and was against it later, or if he never knew in the first place (though I _know _that he never knew that Van was the one to kidnap Luke and that the Luke he raised was a replica until later). I think he did, though -- he just didn't realize that Van would be using fomicry to do it, because Van likes to keep secrets.

Van's dog collar comment was half because I thought it was a Van thing to say, and half because it's _true, _as Fuuga pointed out. :) So that one's for you, Fuuga. I hope I kept Van well enough in character; it's my first time ever writing him, and he's not as easy for me to pin down as, say, Mithos from Symphonia.

One last thing: the entire brotherly relationship between Van and Guy is based off a skit that shows up in Eldrant -- for me, it showed up right after fighting Legretta. Guy's depressed about having to fight Van, and Tear goes to talk to him about it. During their conversation, Guy says that Van always treated him like a big brother. So, that got me thinking that Guy probably based a lot of how he treated Luke off how Van had treated him, and just went from there. In a way, it kind of goes Van to Guy to Luke. Except Guy doesn't end up trying to kill Luke. Uh . . . at least, not on purpose. :)

Okay, that's all I've got. Please review!


	8. Itchy and Scratchy

**Authors' Note:** Agh! I missed my deadline again, though not by too much, thankfully.Another small age-skip here: Luke is fifteen, Guy is nineteen. This one, I admit, has some unabashed brotherly fluff in it (along with some extra bitchy Luke because of . . . well, you'll see). I hope you enjoy it. :)

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Eight: Itchy and Scratchy**

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* * *

**

There was something wrong with Luke.

Well, there were quite a few things wrong with Luke, if Guy wanted to be cheeky, but in this case he meant there was something _actually _wrong.

The first thing Guy noticed was that Luke had no appetite. Luke _always _had an appetite, unless he was upset about something, and while Luke could be as moody as a teenage girl sometimes (a fact Guy brought up every now and then, irritating Luke to no end), he rarely got moody enough to kill his appetite. The first day Luke skipped breakfast and lunch and barely picked at dinner with the excuse of not being hungry Guy let it slide, but the second day he knew that something was definitely up -- especially since Luke had been complaining of a headache all day (a different one than the random migraines he got, he said), and looked dazed and out of it.

"I'm sure Master Luke will be fine," Pere said when Guy brought up his concerns to the gardener. "All young boys go through phases like this."

"I didn't."

"Yes, well . . . If something happens to Master Luke, I'm sure the Duke and Duchess will call in the doctor. You know how Madam Fabre cares for Master Luke; she'll call in the doctor immediately, I'm sure."

However, the Duchess seemed inclined to do no such thing.

"Luke said that he was fine," she told Guy, her eyebrows knit together in concern. "He was so adamant about it . . . I don't want to call the doctor, since Luke really does know his health best, but if something goes wrong, then will you . . . ?"

"Yes, Madam. I'll take care of it." A smile graced Susanne's face at Guy's words, and she visibly relaxed.

"Good."

The rest of the servants were of the same opinion as Pere; there was no need to worry, because Luke was fine. But later on, when Guy found Luke rubbing his back against a tree, he knew there was something really wrong. _Besides a few screws being loose, anyway, _Guy thought sardonically as he headed toward the clearly distressed teen.

"Luke! What are you doing?"

"Trying to scratch my back. Ugh, it's horrible!" Luke slumped down at the base of the tree, looking more annoyed than Guy had ever seen him. More noticeable, though, was the way his green eyes seemed glazed, his cheeks flushed and his red hair damp against his forehead. "It just itches so bad. . . . My legs itch, too." As he spoke, Luke began to rake his fingers up and down his legs, scratching hard to get through his pants. "Screw it. _Everywhere _itches. _Everything _itches no matter how hard I freakin' scratch!" Luke began to scratch at his arms, moving his fingers up his arms and over his chest, scratching like a madman. Guy frowned, walking forward to crouch down next to Luke.

"Luke, stop scratching for a minute."

"Are you _crazy_?"

"No, but you look like you are. Seriously, since when has rubbing your back against a tree ever been a good idea?"

"Since my back decided to _itch _like this."

"Well, stop." Luke glowered at Guy but Guy ignored the look, instead focusing more on Luke's arms. Aside from the red scratches, Guy could see little pockmarks dotting Luke's skin, and upon closer inspection, he could see them on Luke's neck as well. "I think you have some sort of rash."

"Yeah, because I couldn't have told that on my own," Luke grumbled. Guy ignored him, and removed one glove to put a hand against Luke's forehead.

"_And _you're burning up with fever. I knew there was something wrong." _Should've known, anyway. Luke's always extra cranky when he's sick, and he's been doing nothing but complaining and insulting everyone in sight for the past few days. _"C'mon. Get up, Luke. Time to go see the doctor."

Luke scowled, not budging. "No. I'm comfortable right here. Go yourself." As he spoke, Luke began to scratch at his arms again, and Guy knocked his hands away. "Hey!"

"If you were comfortable, you wouldn't be scratching -- and speaking of the scratching, stop it. You're going to make it worse." Guy stood up, reaching down to haul Luke up with him. Luke stumbled -- and with the fever combined with the lack of eating Guy really wasn't surprised -- and Guy pulled him so that most of his weight was resting on Guy's shoulders. "Now, come on. I'm going to take you to your room, and then I'll go get the doctor so he can diagnose this. Jeez, Luke, I swear, you have a medical emergency every year. You're really high maintenance, you know that?"

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

After an examination by the manor's doctor, it was determined that Luke had an infection caused by a varicella zoster virus -- otherwise known as the chicken pox. The doctor had prescribed Luke some medicine, but since it was a viral infection, there was no medicine that would get rid of the disease completely, though they could at least treat the symptoms. Since Luke was sick and no one -- not the doctor, and not the maids -- wanted to deal with his increased crankiness and unruly behavior, Guy was permitted to be in Luke's room while Luke was sick, just to keep Luke entertained and to make sure he took his medicine and ate his soup.

Guy was beginning to regret volunteering.

"Luke, stop scratching," Guy chastised for what felt like the fiftieth time. The look Luke gave Guy was nothing short of venomous, his green eyes smoldering with dislike.

"I already told you, I'll stop scratching when it stops frickin' itching!" Luke raised his hands to scratch again and Guy batted his hands away, causing Luke to smack Guy's hands in response. "Don't hit me!"

"Then stop scratching! And don't hit me, either. I'm just looking out for you. Do you _want _to start bleeding?" Guy looked down at Luke's arms, one of which already had a leaking pock mock. "Or oozing other liquids. That's disgusting, Luke."

"If you don't like it, you can just get out. No one asked you to be here, Guy!"

"_Someone _has to watch you."

"I'm fifteen! I can watch myself!"

"You're fifteen? Well, with the way you act, I'd think you were five instead." Guy ignored the dark look Luke gave him, and as Luke began to scratch at his neck again, Guy decided that enough was enough. Getting up, he retrieved Luke's mittens from his wardrobe.

"Oh, no. You're _not _putting those on me." Luke backed up on the bed, and Guy raised his eyebrows.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way, Luke, but either way, you're putting these on."

"Go to hell, Guy."

"Trust me. Dealing with a sick you already puts me there." On the last word Guy pounced, risking catching the disease himself by throwing himself on top of Luke.

"Ow! Guy!"

"Stop struggling!"

"No! Get off!"

"Not until you're wearing these mittens!" Guy pinned Luke down, jamming the mittens down tight over Luke's protesting hands despite how Luke was thrashing. "There. Now keep 'em on."

"Get _off _me!" Luke snarled, and Guy quickly complied before Luke could throw him off the bed completely. Luke sat up, his glare hotter than a swarm of fifth fonons, and reflexively reached up to rub at his neck viciously with a mittened hand. His ire seemed to fade into a sulky frown, and Guy grinned smugly.

"See? It works just as well, and this way, you won't break open your spots."

"Yeah, yeah." As he spoke, Luke rubbed furiously at his shoulders, moving down to his arms, and then to his legs. "Ugh, the _itching_! Couldn't that stupid doctor have gotten me anything to stop this itching?"

"Hmm. Well, you could always take a bath." Luke looked at Guy like he was crazy, and Guy frowned. "Hey, it could help! The problem's with your skin, so a moisturizing bath might just do the trick. It's worth a shot, right?"

"Guy, it's the middle of the afternoon. I don't wash up until the night."

"So you'd rather just sit there and itch? All right. I can work with that." Guy settled into his chair, and Luke continued scratching in silence for a few minutes before he groaned loudly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Fine! At this point I'm willing to try anything."

* * *

At the suggestion of one of the maids, Guy had filled a couple large socks with oatmeal from the kitchen, and had dumped those into the bathwater in order to help with Luke's itching. Luke had once again called Guy crazy (along with saying it was a stupid idea, among other Luke patented insults), but by the end of it even he had to admit that the itching had nearly stopped. Before Guy could stop him, Luke ditched his mittens, throwing them out of his window, despite Guy's warning that he'd just end up with socks -- _dirty _socks, at that -- on his hands the next time he started scratching again. Luke had just given Guy a scornful look, and dared Guy to try.

Guy was going to take that dare to heart.

But before too long it was dinner time, and Guy brought Luke's soup to him, ignoring the way Luke scrunched his nose when it was brought over.

"Oh, c'mon, Luke, it's your favorite: chicken noodle." Guy grinned. "I thought the chicken part would be ironic." Luke scoffed.

"Good. I hope the chickens they killed for it suffered. This chicken pox _sucks_."

"Have you ever considered that maybe eating so much chicken is what gave you the chicken pox in the first place?" Guy knew it wasn't true, but it was always fun to trick Luke. Luke had gotten less gullible as he'd gotten older, but every now and then Guy still managed to pull one over on him. Luke gave Guy a disdainful look.

"That's stupid. If that's the case you wouldn't be giving me chicken soup now."

"Ah, but the broth helps counteract the ingredient in the chicken which causes the pox. If you eat chicken tenders tomorrow the chicken pox will get even more severe."

"Yeah right! Stop being dumb!"

Guy laughed. "All right, all right. Now here, eat your soup."

"I'm not hungry."

"Luke . . ."

"I'm not!"

"Just like with the mittens, we can make this easy, or we can make this hard." Guy leveled a flat look at Luke, who stared defiantly back.

"You can't tackle me to force feed that to me. You'll spill it all over the bed."

"True. But I can treat you like a little kid and make embarrassing airship noises to try and get you to swallow it if you want. I did that after you returned from Choral Castle when you refused to eat, if you'll remember correctly."

"Sh - Shut up!" The shade of pink on Luke's cheeks told Guy that he remembered _exactly _what Guy had done, as did the following threat. "You better not tell _anyone _about that, or I swear --"

"Hey, don't worry, the secret's safe with me. You know you can trust me, Luke." Guy flashed a winning smile, and Luke rolled his eyes, looking away with a pout.

"Yeah, yeah. I got it."

"Good. So long as you've got _that_, you should be able to get that you need to eat this soup." Luke looked down at the soup, his expression sullen and his nose crinkled, and Guy sighed. "Okay, look, Luke. You really need to eat. You've barely eaten anything in the past few days, and whether you have appetite or not, you need to keep your strength up. Your immune system won't be able to fight the chicken pox unless you eat."

Luke scoffed. "This coming from the guy who says eating chickens causes chicken pox."

Guy ignored the remark, a sudden idea occurring to him. "Hey, how about we play a game? You like games, don't you, Luke?" Luke looked over at Guy out of the corner of his eyes, his expression suspicious.

"What kind of game?"

"It's called 'Never Have I Ever.' It's actually a drinking game some of the servants play, but we'll use it for chicken soup this time."

"How do we play?"

"It's easy. I'll start off and say something true about myself, such as 'Never have I ever been a fon Fabre.' If _you _have, then you have to take a spoonful of your soup. After you do that, it's your turn to say something."

Luke's eyes narrowed, and he placed his fists on his thighs. "And what do you have to do if I say something that you've done but I haven't? Are you going to eat my soup?"

"Nope. That soup is all yours. But there has to be something I can do, to make this fair . . . Oh, I've got it. For every one that you get, I'll have to tell a truth -- like truth or dare, only without the dares."

"Hmm . . ." Luke pursed his lips, considering, yet finally nodded. "All right, deal. So, are you going first?"

"Yup." Guy smirked. "Never have I ever been the Duke's son."

"That's so lame!" Luke burst out, almost immediately after Guy had finished speaking. "You can't take cheap shots like that!"

"Sure I can. Go on, Luke. Take a spoonful." Guy's triumphant grin didn't leave his face, even as Luke took a spoonful of soup, glaring at Guy all the while.

"Never have I ever been named Guy," Luke spat as soon as he'd swallowed. Guy nodded.

"Fair enough. What do you want to know?"

The anger and irritation had faded from Luke's face, giving way to genuine concentration and curiosity as he pondered a question. Finally, he asked, "Why don't you like women?"

Guy frowned, heaving a sigh. Luke had asked that question before, but before Guy had never been obligated to answer. Now he had no choice. "I _like _women, Luke. I just . . ."

"Just?"

"I don't know." Guy reached up, running a hand through his blond spikes, looking over at the corner of Luke's room rather than at Luke himself. "I just can't get near them. It freaks me out."

"So, you're scared of them?"

"Yeah. But I don't know why. I can't remember why."

"Huh. Weird. Anyway, it's your turn." Guy looked back over at Luke to see that Luke already had his spoon in hand, swirling it slowly through his soup. Guy grinned a little.

"Turning yours right back at'cha. Never have I ever been called the light of the sacred flame."

"Jerk," Luke muttered, taking another spoonful of soup. Guy laughed.

"Brat."

Luke swallowed quickly, dropping the spoon back into the bowl. "My turn. Never have I ever been blond. And for the question . . ."

* * *

They continued playing until Luke had cleared his bowl, even though Luke had started complaining halfway through that it was cold (something that Guy pointed out was Luke's own fault, due to Luke refusing to eat it in the first place). By the end of the game, Luke seemed to be in a somewhat better mood, even though the itching had returned. As promised, Guy jammed socks on Luke's hands, tying rubber bands around them to keep them in place, causing Luke's mood to take a dip down again. Unwilling to let Luke sit and stew in his bad mood (which would only make it worse), Guy decided to switch tactics. A game had worked the first time, and no doubt it would work the second time.

"Hey, Luke. You want to make a story?"

"Make a story?" Luke's expression was still sullen under his red bangs, his expression suggesting that he wasn't particularly interested in Guy's idea. Guy nodded.

"Yeah. You know, like how I used to make up stories when you were younger and wanted one told to you before bed."

"So you want _me _to tell _you _a story?" Luke asked disdainfully, and Guy shook his head.

"Nah. I want to make a little game out of it. I'll start the story off, and then you tell the next part. Then when you're done, I'll tell the next part, and we'll just go back and forth until we have a full story. Sound good?"

Luke still looked skeptical, but he shrugged, rubbing a socked hand hard against his neck. "It sounds kind of stupid, but whatever. I guess."

"Good." Guy stood up, grabbing Luke's old wooden practice sword from behind Luke's wardrobe, earning an arched eyebrow from Luke. "Our tale begins in the wilds of Bauldrant, near the Zalkuth border," Guy began, making his voice as low and mysterious as he could. "It was there that in the dead of night, two ninjas crept silently across the land, katana poised at the ready for any possible attack." Guy swung the practice sword so that it was positioned in front of him, held cautiously in defense. "They were attempting to deliver an important package to the kingdom of Dimlasca, and it seemed as if they were going to make it . . ."

"When suddenly, sky pirates attacked," Luke interrupted, his lips twitching as if he was going to start grinning. Guy raised an eyebrow.

"Sky pirates?"

"Yeah, sky pirates." Luke stood up on his bed, and held his hand out as if he were holding a gun, aiming it straight at Guy. "On a huge airship. The sky pirates were from Zalkuth, but they didn't care about the king. They just wanted the package, because the package contained a map to the greatest riches in the world -- and if they had the riches, then they could be heroes."

"But the ninjas weren't keen on giving up the package," Guy continued, beginning to back toward the door. Luke kept his imaginary gun pinned on Guy, his expression positively fiendish in his amusement. "They backed toward the river, preparing to throw themselves in if necessary, wanting to protect the package for the kingdom of Dimlasca as if their lives depended on it."

"But the sky pirates weren't willing to give up, either! They knew that no stupid ninjas could ever beat them, especially with their guns out -- their _flamethrower _guns. They warned the ninjas that they'd set 'em on fire if they moved any closer to the water."

"The ninjas weren't afraid, though, because the water would put out the fire."

"Not if they roasted first."

"And so the ninjas and the pirates seemed to be at a standstill," Guy said, still holding the wooden sword protectively in front of him. He stood with his back to the door, Luke just in front of him, not one of Luke's socked hands moving toward his skin to rub at it. _Keep talking, Guy, _Guy told himself. _Keep him distracted. _"But that was not to be the end, for behind the sky pirates there was a deadly and ferocious behemoth!"

"What?" Luke looked over his shoulder, and Guy took his chance, pouncing forward to put the wooden sword against Luke's throat. "Hey --"

"Of course, the behemoth was just a ninja trick, used to catch the sky pirates off guard! The tables turned, and the ninjas demanded that the sky pirates hand over one of their greatest treasures, or else the pirate captain would lose his head."

"Like the sky pirates are afraid of things like that," Luke shot back, and he reached up to grab Guy's arm, twisting Guy around so that the wooden sword was no longer anywhere near his throat. Guy broke free from Luke's grasp, finding himself on the opposite side, near the bed. "The sky pirates are prepared for anything any stupid ninjas could ever throw at them!"

"Ah, but the ninjas are tricky ones, and they're ready for any counter-attacks the sky pirates might use. In fact, in this occasion, they already had another trick up their sleeves!" Crouching down, Guy swung one leg out, hooking it around Luke's ankles and tripping Luke up, sending the boy sprawling to the floor. "See? Never underestimate a ninja."

"And never trust a sky pirate!" Despite his surprised yelp when he fell, Luke recovered fast, launching himself at Guy. Instinctively, Guy flipped Luke over him, sending Luke back toward the bed. Twisting, Guy got himself back up in a crouching position, watching as Luke scrambled back to his feet, his green eyes calculating. Within a moment, though, Luke sighed, the fire fading from his eyes as he slumped against the bed.

"Luke? You okay?" Guy frowned, standing up to walk over to Luke. Luke nodded.

"Yeah. I just got kinda tired all of a sudden. A little dizzy. I'm fine, though." Guy reached down, putting the back of his hand against Luke's forehead. "What are you doing? I said I'm fine!"

"Your fever's coming back. Here, take some medicine, and then get back in bed. You probably shouldn't be wrestling like that when you're sick." Guy walked over to Luke's nightstand to grab the medicine as Luke climbed back into bed, frowning petulantly over at Guy.

"What, so I can't have fun while I'm sick? C'mon, Guy, don't make the chicken pox suck any more than it already does." Guy grinned cheekily over at Luke, handing Luke the pills first, and then the glass of water.

"Aw, and here I thought that you thought the story idea was stupid."

"Bite me," Luke growled, as soon as he finished swallowing the medicine down. Guy laughed.

"Nope. Not only is that beneath me, but right now it'd be downright unhygienic. Seriously, have you taken a look at your skin lately, Luke? You're covered in pox."

Luke rolled his eyes, flopping back onto his pillows. "Let's play something else," he said, stifling a yawn with one fist. "Something that doesn't require moving."

Guy dropped into the chair he'd put by Luke's bed, propping his feet up on the mattress. "How about . . . I Spy?" Luke made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat that Guy took to be acceptance. "Okay then. I spy with my little eye somethiiiiiiiiiing green."

"My eyes?" Luke guessed, and Guy rolled his own.

"Nice try, but no."

Luke threw his arm over his eyes with a huff. "The throw pillow on the end of my bed?"

"Nope."

"Urrgh . . . The plant?"

"Which one?"

"The one to my left."

"Nope."

"Then the one to my right."

"Bingo!" Guy tilted his chair back on two legs, crossing his arms behind his head. Luke sounded positively exhausted, and the medicine was bound to make him drop off any minute. "Your turn, Luke."

Luke didn't even bother to remove his arm from his eyes, his words coming out in a mumble. "I spy something . . . blue."

"_My _eyes?" Guy teased, and Luke grunted a no. "Haha, thought as much. The carpet? . . . Luke?" When no response came from Luke, Guy chuckled, standing up. "That took less time than I thought it would." Guy stood up, walking over to touch his hand to Luke's forehead again. Due to the medicine, his skin was already cooling, the fever dying off. _Good, _Guy thought. _Now all that needs to happen is for the itching to stop. Luckily, the doctor said it should start dying off in a couple days._

A couple extra days with a sick Luke. If he hadn't already been Luke's primary caretaker for the past five years, Guy wasn't so sure he'd be able to handle it. But as it stood, while Luke had never suffered from chicken pox in the past, he _had _been sick before, and Guy knew he could handle it. He always did.

_But even so, _Guy thought as he hopped up onto Luke's windowsill, _a bit of a break is definitely nice. _With one last look at Luke to make sure the younger teen was still sleeping peacefully, Guy hopped out of the window.

* * *

**Authors' Note: **For the record, in my mind, Guy _did _have the chicken pox as a kid, but he was too young to remember it (around three or four), which is why he says that he never went through anything of the sort when Pere says it was just a phase.

Also, the "jerk," "brat," thing is a homage to the TV show Supernatural, in which brothers Sam and Dean often call each other "jerk" and "bitch" respectively. Only, Guy's not going to call Luke a bitch, even when Luke does kinda-sorta deserve it (and I say kinda-sorta because let's face it, nobody likes the chicken pox).

Anyway, thanks for reading. Please review!


	9. Dance Magic

**Authors' Note: **So, I'm really, really, _really _sorry about the lateness of the update -- and that there's not tons of chapters to make up for it. There's a whole slew of real life stuff that got in the way (a car accident, moving to London for the semester, among other things), but I won't go into a dissertation about it. Suffice it to say, real life got in the way of me keeping my update schedule against my will, and since I don't think things are going to really calm down any time soon, I'll say that I'll try to update as quickly as I can, but I can't really _promise _a set schedule. I'm sorry, guys.

Anyway, they're the same ages here (fifteen and nineteen). A little more brotherly fluff here. Note that there's only one more chapter after this one that sticks to pre-game before we jump to the game's plot. I have it charted out, and I plan to go all the way through the game. We're in for a long ride, guys!

Anyway, please read and review!

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Nine: Dance Magic**

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**

There were some things that would never change. For instance, Pere would never stop putting his best effort into his work even if he still thought much more fondly of days spent in the Gardios manor. The Duchess would never stop fretting over her son. The maids would never stop pestering Guy to date them, and . . .

"Oh, shut up, Natalia! You're so annoying!"

"Well, _you're _absolutely incorrigible, Luke! You're being obstinate and irrational, and while I realize this is your default behavior, that does not excuse you from trying to shirk your duty!"

"Shirk my duty? What are you talking about? I don't have any duty to dance at any stupid party!"

"You _will _dance with me, and that is final!"

And Luke would never stop arguing with Natalia. Guy sighed, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall just outside of the room, Luke's and Natalia's voices carrying easily through the barely open door. Natalia had arrived at the manor an hour and half ago, and yet she'd spent the entire time arguing with Luke, having gone to the manor to announce that her sixteenth birthday was just around the corner and that he was expected to dance with her at her party. Luke, just as Guy had predicted, had adamantly refused from the start, angering Natalia and sending them off.

"I'm not going to do _anything _with you! Just go away!"

"Not until you agree to do what is expected of you! As the Duke's son _and _my fiancé--"

"I still don't remember making any dumb promise to marry you!"

"--you will display honor and grace and dance with me at the upcoming ceremony! I realize that you don't have to participate in courtly affairs regularly, Luke, but that is no reason for you to act like a commoner now. You are going to show Kimlasca just how prepared you are to take the throne, and you _will _like it!"

"Now I _know _you've lost it. Not only do you think I'll actually dance with you, but you actually think I'll enjoy it!"

Natalia made a frustrated sound then, and Guy could just picture her throwing up her hands, glaring at Luke with a look that resembled a furious, wild mare more than it did a princess. "Believe what you will, Luke," Natalia seethed, "but come three days from now, you _will _dance with me at that party." Guy heard her footsteps, then, and Guy scrambled out of the corner before he could be hit by the door, which banged against the wall due to the force that Natalia had used to slam it open.

Unfortunately, moving out into the open left Guy vulnerable, and he recognized the bloodthirsty look in Natalia's eyes as they focused on him. Try as he might to get away, Natalia marched right up to him, backing him against the wall and standing uncomfortably close.

"Guy," Natalia began, and her tone was a lethal purr. Guy practically flattened himself against the wall as Natalia took another step closer. "I expect you heard all of that just now?"

"I - I - I was just pa - passing through," Guy stammered, his mouth dry. Natalia rolled her eyes, giving him a disdainful look.

"Don't treat me as if I'm stupid. I realize that you follow Luke everywhere like a lost puppy. _That's _nothing new. Then again, your stuttering isn't new either, but that doesn't make it any less annoying. You really do need to stop being so ridiculous and get over this stupid "condition" of yours, already."

"Why? So he can be a nag like you, Natalia?" Luke had exited the room in a much calmer fashion than Natalia, though his green eyes were narrowed in as much disdain toward her as she was showing toward Guy. "Back off, will ya? I don't want Guy to catch your rabies."

"Ex_cuse _me?" Natalia whirled around, taking a step closer to Luke, and Guy allowed himself to relax a fraction. He'd have to remember to thank Luke for that later. "Would you care to repeat that, Luke?"

"What? Even you should be able to realize what a nag you are." Luke set his fists upon his hips, staring unashamedly in the face of Natalia's glare. "All you do is nag at me to "do this" and "remember that." It's _really _annoying."

"Well." Natalia was practically trembling with her anger, but she didn't shout, instead lowering her voice to a much more dangerous, lethal calm. "Think what you will, Luke, but remember what I said. Father already said that he will permit you to visit the palace just this once for my birthday, and so you _will _be there. For your sake, I hope you are prepared." Spinning on her heel, Natalia shot one more disdainful look Guy's way before storming back down the corridor, muttering angry words beneath her breath. Luke flipped her a rude hand gesture once her back was turned, though Guy quickly darted forward, knocking Luke's hand down.

"You're lucky she didn't turn around and see that," Guy said once Natalia had rounded the corner. "She probably would have come back to knock your block off." Luke rolled his eyes.

"Don't you mean _you're _lucky? I can handle whatever she throws at me, but you were shaking like a kitten when she got close."

Guy frowned. "You know why that is."

"Yeah, but still. Can you believe her? Like hell I'm going to dance with her at any stupid party! I've got better things to do with my time." Luke put his hands in his pockets, starting down the corridor, and Guy raised an eyebrow as he fell into step beside Luke.

"Really? Like what?"

"Like . . . I don't know. Train?" Luke exhaled sharply. "Okay, okay, so I don't really have anything better to do since I'm just cooped up in here all day, every day. But so what? Doesn't mean I have to go to the palace and _dance_."

"Oh, c'mon, Luke. It won't be _that _bad. At least you'll be out of the manor for once." Guy grinned encouragingly over at Luke, who frowned a bit before looking away.

"Yeah, that'd be something. Still not going, though."

"Hate to break it to you, but you really don't have much of a choice. Princess Natalia was right when she said you'd be there. The Duke will make you go, and even if _he _didn't, King Ingobert would." Luke's head whipped toward Guy, and Guy recognized the obstinate look in Luke's green irises.

"Screw them both! I'll lock myself in my room. They can't _make _me do anything."

"They can and they will. But hey, tell me something." Guy stopped walking, and he reached out a hand to gently grab Luke's arm, stopping him as well. "Why are you so dead-set against going? I can see why Princess Natalia would be a bit intimidating--" Luke scoffed at the idea "--but even so, I can't see what's so horrible about it. So you have to dance with her a little -- so what?" Luke didn't answer, instead looking everywhere but at Guy, and it was then that Guy felt the little fontech bulb flicker above his head. "Wait a second . . . you don't know _how _to dance, do you? They never taught you in etiquette lessons?"

"All they tried to teach me in etiquette lessons was how to speak to stupid, stuffy nobles and that I shouldn't hang out with servants like you or Pere. Yeah, like I'm gonna listen to that." Luke rolled his eyes. "They never taught me anything else, much less how to dance. But who cares? It's not important."

"It's actually very important, since you're going to have to dance with Princess Natalia in three days." Luke gave Guy a look that clearly suggested he wasn't going to, but Guy ignored it, instead thinking hard. "I don't know any of the maids well enough to know which one of them might know slow dance despite her status . . . and I could ask Pere, but I'm not sure if he would know either . . ." Guy bit his lip for a moment more before sighing, shaking his head. "Well, there's nothing for it. C'mon, Luke."

"Where are we going?" Luke demanded, turning to follow Guy back down the corridor. Guy looked over his shoulder, grinning a bit at Luke.

"Back to your room. I'm gonna teach you how to dance."

* * *

"Now, you have to remember that when you dance with the princess, _you're _going to be the one leading. So you'll want to have one arm around her waist, and the other holding her hand."

"This feels awkward."

"Trust me, I'm not exactly comfortable with it either, which is why we're going to get this done as fast as possible, okay?" Guy frowned a little, sighing. "Of course, it'd be easier if you weren't so short. Usually the taller person leads."

Luke scowled, his lips twisting into a pout. "Just you wait," he muttered. "I'll be taller than you in no time. And when I am, the first thing I'm gonna do is kick your ass in a wrestling match." Guy laughed, shaking his head.

"You're welcome to try, if you ever get there, which is looking doubtful right now."

"Guy--!"

"Now pay attention. You'll never learn like this."

Luke's expression didn't shift from a frustrated pout, but he relented, nodding once to show Guy that he was listening. Luke's room was dark, lit only by the lamps, as they had drawn the drapes over the window and had locked Luke's door. If Luke felt embarrassed for having dancing lessons with Guy, well, he wasn't the only one. Guy was having to swallow his own manly pride to do it. But sometimes people made sacrifices for those they cared about, and if it meant Luke not humiliating himself at the party and facing Natalia's wrath, well . . . _At least no one's around to see. No one has to know._

"All right, like I said, you'll want one hand around her waist or on her hip -- probably your left hand -- and your right hand grasping hers. But, I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?" Guy reached up to scratch at the back of his head. He really wasn't cut out for this. "Luke, do you know how to formally ask Princess Natalia to dance?"

"_I'm _going to be asking _her_?" Luke made a face. "Last I heard she was telling me I was going to dance with her with no request about it."

"I'll take that as a no. All right, we'll start from the very beginning, then." Guy clapped his hands together once, matter-of-factly. "I'm not exactly sure how it's going to be at her ceremony, but odds are, she's going to be standing off the dance floor until you ask her. Also, chances are that you two are going to have the first dance completely to yourselves."

"What?! That's insane!"

"It's how it'll be. You're expected to marry her, you know. You can't do that if you can't even dance with her." Luke's expression remained disgruntled, but he also remained silent as Guy continued. "Anyway, you'll need to approach her, keeping eye contact the entire time, and when you stand in front of her, you should bow," Guy demonstrated the action, "extending your right hand to her. Then, in the smoothest tone you can manage--"

"'Smoothest tone I can manage'? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"--you'll say, 'Princess Natalia, would you do me the honor of having this dance?'"

"So I'm supposed to lie to her? Because her dancing with me isn't an honor at all. It's just irritating." Luke folded his arms stubbornly across his chest, and Guy rolled his eyes.

"I'm just telling you the formal way to ask her, Luke. If you walk up to her and say, 'Hey, let's get this over with,' it's going to be considered rude and the Duke will be furious with you. Not to mention Her Highness' reaction. You actually might have a higher survival rate with the Duke than with the princess if you ruin her birthday."

"Tch." Luke's bad temper didn't fade, and he instead snapped, "So, what then?"

"Well, if you ask properly, she'll accept and take your hand. You'll then lead her _slowly _to the dance floor -- don't drag her -- probably to the center, or as close to the center as you can get. That's where you'll assume the position I told you before; your hand either on her hip or on the small of her back, your other hand holding hers at about shoulder level." Guy eyed Luke speculatively for a moment before saying, "But first you should probably practice asking, because something tells me you aren't going to go about it the nicest way."

"So, what, you want me to ask _you _to dance?" Luke demanded, and Guy shook his head.

"Pretend I'm the princess."

"Oh, right, because _that's _easy."

"Luke . . ."

"All right already! Jeez, calm down!" Luke heaved an exaggerated sigh, and gave Guy a look that clearly suggested he'd rather be digging his own grave. "Princess Natalia, can I have the honor of this dance?"

For a split-second, Guy debated on how to handle the situation. On the one hand, he could just bluntly state the obvious; Luke's proposal was horrible, and Natalia would likely throw him out if he heard it. But on the other, harsh criticism would only worsen Luke's mood, and that was the last thing Guy needed to deal with at the moment. So instead he grinned, forcing his voice a few octaves higher in a snooty impersonation of Natalia's.

"My, Luke that proposal was positively awful! It sound as if you're asking me to live with you in the stables rather than to dance! I demand that you try again at once -- this time with grace worthy of your title!"

Luke stared at Guy in the silence following Guy's imitation -- stared as though he thought Guy had lost his mind. But after a few seconds the corners of his lips began to twitch, and before he could help himself Luke was laughing, reaching out to balance himself on his dresser due to the force of his laughter. At the sound of Luke's laughter, Guy couldn't help but join in, mentally congratulating himself on his victory.

"That . . . was . . . perfect!" he gasped in between laughs. "How the hell did you manage to do that so well? You barely spend any time around her!"

"Trust me, the time I've spent is enough," Guy told Luke, and then hastily added, "But don't tell Her Highness I said that, please. The last thing I need is her on my case about that."

"Oh, don't worry. I could just hear her now." Mimicking the higher pitch Guy had used before, Luke mocked, "'Due to the fact that you serve my betrothed, you will be my servant in the future, Guy. Such dislike of me is unacceptable even though I'm an evil, nagging crow.'"

Guy snorted. "You had most of it, but I'm not sure she'd call herself an evil, nagging crow."

"She would if she had any sense of self-awareness."

"Well, all that aside, I think you should try practicing asking her again." Luke groaned, all traces of amusement gone, and Guy looked at him more seriously. "The sooner you get this part right the sooner we can get the actual dancing part over with."

"All right, all right! Jeez."

"And this time," Guy interrupted, before Luke could say anything, "Try not to make it seem like you'd rather be swallowing needles."

"Right." Luke cleared his throat and closed his eyes briefly before opening one, squinting through it at Guy. "What am I supposed to say again?"

"'Princess Natalia, would you do me the honor of having this dance.'"

"Right." Luke screwed up his face, and Guy was almost positive that he was going to have a repeat performance of Luke's poor request. However, much to his surprise, Luke held out his hand much as Guy had shown him, and repeated in a neutral tone, "Princess Natalia, would you do me the honor of having this dance?"

"Hmm . . . Not bad, Luke." Guy nodded appreciatively. "I think she'll accept that." Luke glowered.

"She better, because I won't ask twice. Once is bad enough."

Guy didn't bother to mention that Luke might have to ask twice, if Natalia willed it. It _was _her birthday, after all, and if Luke denied her anything, she would no doubt let him hear it right there in the center of the ball -- and if she did that, there was no doubt that Duke Fabre would get involved. But telling Luke that would only cause Luke to complain more, and Guy didn't want to have to take a fifteen-minute segue to argue the subject.

"Okay, now comes the actual dancing part. I'm not exactly sure how we're going to do this with how short you are--"

"Yeah, yeah, keep laughing. I'll hit a growth spurt and be taller than you someday."

"--but we'll do our best anyway." Guy took a deep breath, readying himself for what would no doubt be a painful exercise (both because of Luke's complaints and the clumsiness that Guy knew Luke for), and said, "Okay, do you remember where I said you'll put your hands?"

"One in hers, and one around her waist, right?" Luke guessed. Guy nodded.

"Exactly. And she'll put her hand on your shoulder."

"Right." Luke paused, and then said, "You know, I think I've got it. We really don't have to do this."

"As much as I'd like to believe that, I know you. There's no way you've got this yet." Guy reached out, grabbing Luke's hand, and Luke glared at him, jerking his hand away.

"Are you trying to call me stupid?"

"No," Guy replied, his glib response quick. "I don't have to _try._"

"Screw you! I don't have to take this!" Luke turned to leave, but Guy grabbed his wrist, yanking him back.

"You actually do, if you don't want Princess Natalia screaming your head off. Come on, let's just get it over with. I'll get you ice cream later if you learn to dance now." Luke looked back at Guy, staring at him shrewdly from beneath red bangs.

"Promise?" he asked after a few heartbeats, and Guy grinned.

"Promise."

Luke still looked like he wanted to leave, but the promise of ice cream was too much for him to resist. With an exaggerated huff, he turned back to face Guy, his lips pursed into a sullen pout. "Fine," he agreed. "Let's just get this over with."

* * *

It had taken three hours and bruised feet (Luke just could not stop stepping on Guy's feet no matter how hard he tried), but Guy finally taught Luke how to dance. In the end, one bowl of ice cream wasn't enough for either of them, and Guy ended up sneaking four bowls to Luke's room, relishing in the comfort food. After all, teaching Luke to dance was a traumatic experience. Guy felt he needed all the ice cream he could get.

But three days had passed quickly, and in no time at all, Luke was attending Natalia's birthday party, just as he'd been told he would. Guy, as a servant, wasn't allowed to go, but there was no way he could miss seeing just how his handiwork panned out. No, he had to see if Luke was actually going to follow through on his lessons.

The ballroom of the palace was large, with windows that took up half the side of the wall, starting from the roof. It would be impossible to see in from the ground, but Guy had no qualms about climbing the trees in the castle courtyard, easily scaling one in order to get up to the top branches. Just as he'd predicted, he had a rather nice view; he could see the entire ballroom, and with Luke's vivid red hair, it was easy to pick him out in the crowd -- and from what Guy could see, he'd gotten there just in time. Just as he'd been taught, Luke bowed before Natalia, extending his hand toward her. Guy couldn't read lips well enough to make out what Luke was saying, but the fact that Natalia smiled and took Luke's hand was really all that he needed to know. So far, so good.

"Now comes the dangerous part," Guy murmured, leaning back in the tree and folding his arms. "Remember, Luke, the princesses' feet are more delicate than mine, however she may act. If you step on them . . ."

But he didn't. Instead, Luke began to spin Natalia around the dance floor, his movements basic and not-too-spectacular, yet not shabby, either. Natalia didn't wince, didn't falter, and even seemed to be enjoying herself. Guy grinned appreciatively, unable to resist feeling proud of the clumsy kid in on the dance floor. "Atta boy, Luke," he said, despite the fact that Luke couldn't hear him, and turned to climb out of the tree. "I knew you could do it."

* * *

Guy didn't see Luke until later, after the party had ended and Luke was writing in his journal for the night. As was customary, Guy hopped in through Luke's window, sitting down on the windowsill and returning Luke's look with a smile.

"Hey, Luke. You did well with Natalia today."

"You saw?" Luke furrowed his brow in suspicion. "I thought you weren't allowed to be there."

"I wasn't. But the ballroom does have windows."

"You spied on us through the windows? That's a creepy thing to do, isn't it?"

"Hey, I had to make sure you didn't step on her feet somehow. Besides, I'm trying to give you a compliment here. You could just graciously accept it." Guy snorted. "Then again, you never were very gracious." Luke rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

"Har har. But when you say I did well . . ." Luke's expression suddenly turned a lot more shifty, and Guy felt suspicion of his own worm its way through him. "How much did you see?"

"Not too much. I left as soon as I saw that you weren't crushing her toes. Why?" Part of Guy didn't really want to know the answer to that question. Knowing Luke, there was a variety of ways that it could go, especially with the way he was suddenly avoiding Guy's gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So, uh . . . You missed the end?"

"Yeah." Guy paused, letting the silence pass between them, before he sighed. "Luke, what did you do?"

"I, uh . . . I dropped her." Guy couldn't resist; he put his head in his hands. "It was an accident! I just tried to dip her like you told me to and accidentally let go!"

Just as he couldn't help dropping his head to his hands, Guy couldn't help laughing. At first he tried to control it -- after all, he was sure Natalia had chewed him out good, the Duke right behind her -- but the defensiveness of Luke's tone, coupled with the image of him dropping the shocked princess onto the ballroom floor, and the fact that it was just so _Luke _thrown into the mix made it impossible for Guy _not _to laugh. As the laughter took hold, Guy jumped down from the windowsill, crossing over to Luke to thump him lightly on top of his head with one fist.

"Idiot," he said, but his tone was more joking than actually scolding. Luke faked a pout, but a grin was quickly forming on his own lips. "Well, cheer up, Luke. I'm sure Princess Natalia will forgive you sooner or later, and there's always next year."

"Yeah, but in the meantime, at least I don't have to deal with h--wait, next year?" Luke's eyes widened in horror. "I'll have to do that _again_?!" Guy grinned.

"Yep. So you better start preparing now. Oh, but then again, she might also want to dance with you at _your _birthday party. Guess that means your next dance is only months away." As Luke's expression of horror continued to grow, Guy felt laughter threatening to overtake him again. "Better get crackin', Luke."

"Aw, man! No fair! There's no way I should have to dance with her at _my _party, too! It's _my _party for a reason! Man, this _sucks_! And Guy, it's _not _funny! This is _serious_!" Despite Luke's insistence that the matter was of grave importance, Guy doubled over, Luke's indignation making the entire situation a great deal more hilarious than Luke wanted it to be.


	10. A Light in the Attic

**Authors' Note: **So I go months without updating (or it felt like months to me, anyway), and then right after one update I'm struck with inspiration that keeps me up until three in the morning (when I have to be up for class at nine!) writing to finish a chapter. What in Auldrant is wrong with my brain?

For this one, Luke is sixteen, and Guy is twenty. I'm pretty sure that most attic entrances don't work like the one I describe here -- at least, in my house, it's just a tile that leads up to the attic and we have to use an ordinary ladder to get there -- but I'm taking a bit of author's power just to make it a little more believable (in the sense that it'd be easier to get up there without detection). Also, the title of this chapter is a shout-out to my favorite childhood poet, Shel Silverstein. There aren't really any other references to Mr. Silverstein in the title, but given the content of this chapter, I couldn't resist giving him the reference. Goodness knows the man deserves all the credit he gets and more. :)

Anyway, this one is kind of a chill-out chapter. Not too much action, but hopefully it'll still interest you. And then, next chapter, we're off to the magical land of hyperresonance and the start of the game!

Anyway, please read and review!

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Ten: A Light in the Attic**

**

* * *

**

Luke had tried to escape to Baticul many times in the past. He didn't see why he shouldn't be allowed to go, after all. He was sixteen! He'd had sword training lessons with Master Van! He could take care of himself! But his uncle had decreed that he was not allowed to leave the manor, and so every time he'd tried, he was denied. Even _Guy _stopped him from going, and Guy rarely stopped him from doing anything.

Well, Luke wasn't really up to being denied any longer. He was going to get to explore his home city, and that was that.

He just had to escape the grounds first.

As he got older, Luke had grown out of his prepubescent clumsiness, growing used to his longer limbs and added height (though he still wasn't taller than Guy, much to his chagrin). His increased self-awareness made him able to move more gracefully, more stealthily, and to avoid the guards on their rounds. Of course, he was allowed to explore the manor's grounds as he wished; he could even toe the border, so long as he stayed on the very edge. It was getting to the lift that was going to be another matter altogether. There was always a guard posted there, ready to stop him from going down -- ready to prevent him from reaching freedom.

Well, unfortunately for them, Luke had a backup plan.

Luke reached the lift just as it was time for the guard's shift to change, the second guard walking up to the lift at a leisurely pace. Luke watched him as a cat would watch its prey, crouched down in the shadows where they'd be unlikely to see him. The guards switched wordlessly, the shift change so routine that it didn't need any explanation, and Luke barely waited for the first guard to be out of earshot before he pounced, swinging his sword toward the back of the replacement guard's head. The sword of the flat of Luke's sword striking off armor could be heard clear across the grounds, as could the guard's surprised shout as he stumbled away from the lift.

"Damn," Luke swore, scowling. "You were supposed to fall unconscious." Never mind the fact that the guard was wearing a helmet. The guard turned, staring at pure shock in Luke, who quickly sheathed his sword and bolted for the lift.

"Master Luke?! Wait, stop!"

"C'mon, work already!" Luke jammed the lift buttons, hitting every one that he could see, but just as the lift started to lurch down the guard threw himself into the lift with Luke, quickly hitting a big red button. Luke looked up to see that more guards were heading across the grounds, and he groaned loudly. What was supposed to be a daring escape had failed miserably. How wonderful. "Come on, just get out and let me go!"

"I cannot do that, Master Luke." The guard reached out, grabbing Luke's arm, and tugged him out of the lift. Luke pulled his arm from the guard's grasp, rubbing it where it hurt, glaring daggers. "You should know by now that we can't let you leave. Why would you go and attack me like that?"

"Why do you think? I want to get out of this stupid manor." Luke turned to look at the guards who'd come to assist, scowling at them all. "What are you looking at? Get out of here and go back to your posts!" They exchanged glances uncertainly, irritating Luke further. "Did you not hear me? Go!"

"Y - Yes, sir!" The guards turned, heading back to their posts, and Luke looked back to the first guard.

"If I can give them orders to go back to their posts, why can't I give you an order to leave yours?"

"You know why," the guard explained wearily. "King Ingobert has decreed that you are not to leave the manor grounds. Master Luke, I understand that you wish to explore Baticul, but--"

"No, you don't," Luke interrupted. "If you understood, you'd let me go. But you won't, because you don't. No one does, because no one else is stuck in this stupid manor!" The guard opened his mouth to protest, but Luke turned away, stomping back toward the manor, his earlier good mood completely soured. "Whatever! I'll stay in the manor, if that's what all of you want! It's not like I'm wasting away with boredom or anything!"

The guard didn't bother to reply, and Luke didn't look back as he headed back toward the manor, knowing that if he did, he'd be tempted to go back and yell at the guard some more, despite how pointless it would be. After all, no matter how much he yelled, no one ever listened to him. Well, Guy listened, but Guy still wouldn't let him leave. "You'll be able to leave when you're of age, Luke," Guy would say. "Until then, just try to make the best of it." Yeah, make the best of it. Like _that _ever worked. It was hard to make the best of something when there wasn't any good to work with.

Luke sighed, entering in the manor and looking both ways down the corridor. He knew every inch of the manor back to front, side to side, up and down. He had explored every inch, even going so far as to look in all of the closets and in the basement. There was nothing new, nothing exciting, and that's what made it so hard to find entertainment; there was _nothing _there for him to be entertained by.

. . . Except . . .

Luke paused, his green eyes traveling up to look at the ceiling. He'd been on all of the floors and in the basement, true, but he was fairly certain that the manor had an attic. He'd heard some of the servants talking about it, once upon a time, about putting stuff in storage up there as well as cleaning it out. Luke himself had never been to the attic, but he'd been a curious child and so when he'd heard the servants talking about it initially, he'd followed them for awhile to see where the entrance was. Of course, they hadn't allowed him to climb up after them, and at the time Luke was young so he'd forgotten about it soon after. But it was one place that he hadn't explored yet, and if they weren't going to permit him to leave the manor grounds . . .

Luke glanced around to make sure no one could see him, and then darted down the corridor. After all, there was no need to tell anyone where he was going. If they couldn't find him, and if they were worried, well, then it sucked to be them. It wasn't Luke's problem, and he certainly didn't care.

* * *

Luck was certainly on Luke's side. Somehow, he managed to avoid most of the servant staff, including Guy, who was nowhere in sight for whatever reason. Normally, Luke would be annoyed, because Guy usually sought him out early in the day. But that day, it was a blessing in disguise, especially as Luke found the little trapdoor set in the ceiling that he was positive led up to the attic. Glancing around the corridor once more, Luke jumped, grabbing the handle and yanking the trapdoor down. Just like he saw when he was a kid, a rope ladder tumbled out of the ceiling, allowing him to climb quickly up into the attic, pulling the ladder and the trapdoor back up after him. The door securely in place, Luke allowed himself a little grin, and turned to survey the attic.

It was pretty large, all things considered, and also pretty dirty. Luke's nose crinkled in response to the dust, which swirled in the sunbeams that filtered in through the tiny window near the very top of the wall. There was no carpet or proper wallpaper in the attic at all; instead, wooden beams were overhead, the floor barren wood that matched the paneling of the walls. Boxes were everywhere, as were a few pieces of old furniture that had old blankets thrown over them. Luke frowned, setting his hands on his hips and canting his weight to one side.

"Well, I can see why no one ever comes up here. Jeez, this place is trashed." Walking across the wood floor, Luke swiped one finger across the top of an old dresser, grimacing at the layer of dust that caked his finger after the action. "And dirty as hell." Dusting his finger off on his pants, Luke moved forward, taking note of the untidy handwriting that had marked each of the boxes, and the large, gilt-framed mirror set against the side wall. Without really thinking, Luke moved toward it, standing so that he was directly in front of the dusty glass, staring at his reflection.

Despite repeated words to Guy about growing taller, Luke was still only of average height, at least five inches shorter than Guy. His red hair was long, falling almost to his waist, and contrasting vividly against the white he usually liked to wear. But what interested Luke most was his eyes; his bright green eyes, which seemed unfamiliar every time he looked at them.

This was the reason Luke liked to look at his reflection so much. It wasn't that he thought he was overly attractive or anything (though he knew he certainly wasn't _ugly _or anything even close to it), but just that he felt like he was looking at a stranger every time he looked in the mirror. Luke supposed it was because he'd lost his memory. He didn't remember what he'd looked like before the kidnapping, and so as a result, he took every chance he got to look into a mirror. But even after six years his reflection still felt foreign and strange, and he found himself entranced with staring into his own eyes whenever he passed by something that caught his reflection, be it a mirror or simply a basin of water.

It took him a few minutes, but he finally managed to tear his reflection away, turning to look at some of the boxes near the window. They were open, unlike the other boxes in the room, and on the very top of one he could see a large, brown, leather-bound book. Luke wasn't a voracious reader by any means (he actually found reading to be quite boring), but his curiosity was sparked and so he picked the book up out of the box, sitting down on the floor and cracking it open. It wasn't an ordinary book at all, incidentally; it was a photo album.

A photo album filled to the brim with pictures of his childhood.

"Weird . . ." Luke murmured, looking at a picture of him with Natalia. They couldn't have been more than five years old, and he was actually _smiling _as he stood with her out in the grass. Since when did he ever want to smile around Natalia? No time that he could remember, but it made him think that maybe she wasn't _completely _making it up when she said they used to be friends. Of course, that wasn't going to change the fact that he thought she was an annoying _nag_, but still. The other pictures were much the same; pictures of his early childhood that he couldn't remember, but that fascinated him all the same, intriguing him just as his reflection did every time he had to keep sight of it. Something that looked like it should have been so familiar, yet felt entirely alien every time he came in contact with it. Much as Luke knew he should be taking the time to explore the rest of the attic, looking through every box and every nook and cranny, he found that he couldn't put down the photo album -- couldn't stop flipping through the pages to look at long-gone memories.

* * *

Luke hadn't really noticed how much time was passing save to light a candle he found in a box when the sun sunk too low to provide adequate light through the glass. He didn't notice if he was hungry, and he certainly wasn't tired. But when the trapdoor leading down to the rest of the manor opened and he heard someone calling his name, his head snapped up and he blinked, coming out of his daze and realizing that he'd almost forgotten there were other people down in the manor.

"Luke? You up here?"

"Guy? Yeah, I'm over here," Luke called back. In looking at the pictures -- and there was more than just the one album -- Luke's ire had faded, allowing him to not be as averse to company as he had been earlier. Luke heard Guy sigh audibly in relief as the trapdoor closed, and looked unabashedly in the direction of Guy's glare when Guy came into view.

"Have you been up here this whole time?" Guy demanded. "We've been looking for you for hours!"

"Yeah, I've been here," Luke answered, looking back down to the album in his hands. "I had to do something to keep myself occupied since they wouldn't let me go to Baticul." Guy sighed again, this time in exasperation, and came over to sit next to Luke.

"I heard about your little attempted escapade this morning," he said. "The Duke just about had that guard's head, just so you know. Since no one could find you, he thought that you somehow managed to make it to Baticul anyway. The Duke said that if you weren't found by morning, he was going to fire the guard."

"So?" Luke asked, shrugging. "There are plenty of guards to replace him." He looked up to see that Guy's expression had darkened with disapproval, blue eyes narrowing.

"Luke . . ."

"All right, all right, I'll tell Father not to fire him. No need to get all upset." Luke rolled his eyes to punctuate his words, but despite his tone, Guy seemed to accept it, dropping the subject to move closer and examine what Luke was looking at.

"A photo album?"

"Yeah, there are tons." Luke reached out to tap the box he'd originally found, setting the album he was currently examining down to reach for another. "The one I was just looking at mostly just had pictures of Mother and Father, I guess from when they were younger. None with me in it, really, except for a few baby pictures. _This _one, on the other hand . . ." Luke lifted the first album back onto his lap, cracking it open. "This has tons."

Guy looked at the pictures, a little half-smile forming on his face. "I remember these pictures," he said, and Luke looked over to him in surprise. "Most of 'em, anyway."

"Really?" When Guy nodded, Luke asked, "Why were they stuck up here?"

"Well, as you know, you've had amnesia ever since your kidnapping. The Duchess tried showing you some pictures right when you got back, but they still didn't trigger your memory and you got frustrated. She decided that it might be best to just stick all the pictures up here until your memory came back. I guess she just forgot about them since that never happened." Luke looked back down at the pictures, examining the portraits of himself playing with Natalia, or reading books, or attending noble court.

"Oh." Luke flipped through a few more pages, and then said, "Hey, I have another question."

"Shoot."

"There aren't many pictures of us together, but in the ones that are here, neither of us look very . . . happy." Luke pointed to one in particular, in which he looked to be no older than seven or eight and he and Guy were in the courtyard, standing near each other but not together, neither one smiling. "Why is that?"

Guy didn't answer immediately, and Luke glanced up to see Guy staring at the photograph with a sort of strange intensity. It was weird, because Guy always seemed incredibly laidback to Luke -- the type of person who was never bothered by anything. Not that Guy looked _bothered_, per se, but he definitely seemed as if he was remembering something that he didn't really want to. _He's just lucky he _can _remember, _Luke thought. _I wish I could._

Finally, Guy spoke, though he seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. "We . . . didn't really get along back then."

Luke furrowed his brow in confusion. "What? Why?"

Guy frowned as well, reaching up to run a hand through his blond spikes. "We just . . . didn't," he said, and the answer sounded lame to Luke's ears. "There wasn't a real reason, except that you were a completely different person back then than you were when you got back from the kidnapping."

Luke looked back at the photo album. The younger version of himself did seem different, and not just because Luke couldn't remember the situations in which the pictures were taken whatsoever. Aside from a few pictures here and there with Natalia, his younger self never seemed to smile, and instead seemed extremely cold in each of the pictures. Granted, Luke himself didn't really find the need to smile too much nowadays, given how bored he always was, but he still could remember smiling dozens of times since he was brought back to the manor. Luke didn't know whether whoever had taken the pictures just had bad luck or timing or what, but whatever the case, he could definitely see where Guy might be coming from.

"That really sucks," Luke muttered. "That we weren't friends, I mean. And was I seriously friends with Natalia?"

"Best friends," Guy affirmed. "You two were always happiest when you were together." Luke pulled a face, shutting the album and pushing it away from him.

"Gross. Almost makes me glad I was kidnapped."

"You really shouldn't say things like that," Guy said, though he didn't sound _too _upset. "After all, getting kidnapped wasn't really a good thing. It gave you complete amnesia, not to mention those headaches . . ."

Ugh, the headaches. Like Luke could forget. Just thinking about them made Luke think he could almost hear the strange ringing in his ears that usually signaled one. Out of habit, he reached up to rub at his ear, as if to rub the ringing out. "Yeah, well," Luke huffed, "I'd just rather have you as a best friend over Natalia any day. That's all."

Luke looked over to see that Guy had cracked a grin. "Thanks, Luke."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Luke pushed himself off the floor, not bothering to put the photo albums away, and dusted off his pants. It was dark, but there was still quite a bit of attic to explore, and Luke wasn't ready to return just yet. "Want to check out the rest of the attic with me?" he asked. "You don't have to, but . . ."

"Don't you think it's kind of late?" Guy asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's after dinnertime, after all. You've been up here for hours."

"Huh. I hadn't really noticed." Luke shrugged. "Doesn't matter, anyway. I'm not hungry, and so long as I tell Father where I've been before morning, that stupid guard should be fine." Guy frowned a little, most likely in response to Luke's insult of the guard, or so Luke guessed.

"Even if you're not hungry, you should still eat." Or maybe Guy wasn't worried about the guard at all. "I'm sure you've just been too distracted to think about food. Either that, or you're getting sick again." A different sort of grimace found its way to Guy's face. "Please don't get sick again." Luke scowled.

"I'm not _that _bad."

"I respectfully disagree. You're as bad as they get when you're sick and you know it."

"Tch." Luke picked the candle up off the floor and stepped over the photo album box. "Well, I'm going further into the attic. You can come if you want, but if you don't, then just go back down to the manor. See if I care."

Luke heard Guy groan behind him, but grinned as he heard footsteps walking up behind him. "I'll come with you, but only because I have no idea what you could possibly get into up here. You need constant supervision."

"Jeez, thanks, Guy," Luke muttered sarcastically. Guy grinned.

"Don't mention it."

As it turned out, the attic yielded plenty more interesting results. There were old fontech instruments that had Guy geeking out like no other (Luke looked away and tried to pretend like he didn't notice), creepy paintings that Luke was glad weren't downstairs in the manor any longer (including one with a clown that Luke threw a sheet over, deciding that no one needed to see it), and a few boxes full of various odds and ends, including chewed up jigsaw pieces and strange pieces of plastic of various shapes.

"Looks like a chess set," Guy noted, pulling out a piece of cardboard and a plastic piece shaped like a horse's head. Luke raised an eyebrow.

"A what set?"

"Chess." Guy glanced over at Luke, and then a look of realization flickered across his face. "Oh, right . . . I guess no one ever taught you about chess, huh? I don't remember teaching you, and I know the Duke doesn't really approve of games . . ."

"Yeah. No memory, remember?" Luke reached into the box, pulling out a piece shaped like a castle and peering at it curiously. "So it's a game? How do you play?"

"It's a game of strategy. The basic objective is to defeat your opponent by taking out their king, but it's a lot more complicated than it sounds." Guy fished the rest of the pieces out of the box, and then paused, looking at Luke with a serious expression. "Do you really want to learn how to play? It could take awhile, and it's not easy."

Luke glanced briefly down at the chess pieces, and then shrugged, sitting back and crossing his legs. "Why not? It's not like there's anything better to do."

Guy grinned. "Okay. But first, wait here. I'm going to go get something." He stood up and turned to leave, and before Luke could protest, added, "I promise, I'll be back in a flash."

"Okay. You better be." Guy chuckled in the face of Luke's warning and left, disappearing back around the corner. Luke looked back to the pieces, examining each one closely before he began to set them up in random positions on the board, deciding to have them enact an epic battle while he waited for Guy's return.

True to his word, Guy was back before too long had passed, a basket in one hand and an old gas lamp in the other. When he sat down, lighting the lamp and blowing out the candle, he raised his eyebrows at the positioning of the pieces on the chess board.

"What are you doing?"

"It's war," Luke explained, and began to point out the various pieces. "Right now, this cluster of white little things are being held prisoner, being guarded by the black castle things. Meanwhile, this black horse is trying to deliver a message to the black king, but what he doesn't know is that he's about to be assassinated by the two white horses and one of the white castle things. Also, the white queen -- I think it's the queen -- is actually having an affair with the black king."

Guy snorted, shaking his head, and reaching out to rearrange the pieces. "Sounds more like one of Princess Natalia's romance novels than war," he said. "But then again, you know what they say: love is a battlefield."

"That's a really cheesy line, Guy."

"That's what makes it so good."

"What's in the basket?" Given the fact that Guy had ruined his war, Luke moved on to other ventures, grabbing the basket without waiting for permission and pulling it toward him. Guy answered just as Luke opened it.

"Food. Figured you might be hungry, even if you said you weren't. So long as we were up here playing chess, we might as well snack on things, too. By the way, I told the Duke I found you, so you don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Awesome." Luke's stomach growled, hunger he hadn't noticed until that point hitting him, and he pulled out a bread roll. "Come to think of it, I _am _kinda hungry."

"I know," Guy answered, still setting up the pieces. Luke rolled his eyes.

"You know _everything_. Seriously, how do you do it? No one else even knew where to look for me."

"I have my ways." Luke considered making a snipe about how Guy's "ways" involved cheating somehow, but Guy finished setting up the pieces by that point and began talking, reaching into the basket to pull out a roll of his own. "Okay, let's start with the basics: the pieces. First off, you actually had the king and the queen mixed up. The king is your most important piece, which you'll want to protect at all costs, and the queen is your most powerful. She can move any number of spaces in any direction."

"Protect the king, and the queen is like Natalia on a warpath," Luke said, and Guy choked back a laugh. "Got it."

"Good. Now, the "horses" are your knights. They can move in an L shape, either two spaces over and one up, or two spaces up and one over. No exceptions."

Luke frowned, nodding once, trying to memorize it. "I think I'm going to end up needing a pen and a piece of paper," he said finally. Guy shook his head.

"Nah, you'll remember it. Trust me. We've got plenty of time." Guy repositioned himself so that he was laying on his stomach, and pointed to the next piece. "The castle pieces are actually called rooks, and can move in any direction forward, backward, left, or right. They can't move diagonally. Next you'll want to look at the bishops--"

"Guy," Luke interrupted, and Guy looked up, signaling for Luke to go on. "Let's just play."

"Luke, you don't even know the rules yet," Guy pointed out. Luke grinned, reaching forward to move a pawn forward.

"So we'll figure them out as we go. I don't want to spend all day learning the rules; it's boring. Let's just have a war and be done with it." Luke paused, and then added, "Unless you're too chicken to face me in war. I guess I could understand that."

"It has nothing to do with being chicken, Luke. It just has to do with not wanting to hear you whine when you lose." Guy moved a pawn forward as well, declaring, "King Luke, I hereby declare war on your Kingdom of Dimlasca."

"Well then, King Guy, consider your challenge accepted." Luke moved his knight, having it jump over his pawns to get to the front line. "There's no way you'll win!"

Guy looked as if he was going to object -- and Luke knew why, remembering what Guy had told him about the way knights moved -- but didn't, instead just moving one of his own knights to meet Luke's head-on. It was war, after all, and as they said (whoever "they" happened to be), all was fair.


	11. Kidnapped Take Two

**Authors' Note: **And here we are at the start of the game. As I'm sure all of you know, Luke is seventeen (and at the height of his bratty-brat years), and Guy is twenty-one. It's going to be a somewhat bumpy ride from here on out, guys! Hang on tight!

Keep in mind that some of the dialogue from this chapter is straight from the game, since I wanted to start this chapter from Guy's first entrance in the game. It's not _just _a rewrite of those scenes, however. But, to give credit where credit is due, a few select pieces of the dialogue belong to Bamco, not me. :) (Though, a bit of the dialogue is changed, particularly the lines about Luke's kidnapping, just to make it sound more natural and less "let's give the audience this information so they have plot backstory." You all already know the backstory, so there's no reason to completely rehash it. :) )

Please drop me a line if you read!

* * *

Bonds of Brotherhood

**Eleven: Kidnapped - Take Two**

**

* * *

**

Guy was really beginning to consider carrying more than just his sword.

"Ooh, Guuuuy! Come over here, just for a minute!""We just want to talk to you!""Just for a minute!"

The maids could barely get the words out for their giggling, but Guy saw them as lethal anyway. He could never actually _hurt _them, but body armor certainly couldn't hurt.

"Now, now, ladies, you know I have to go check on Luke." That wasn't the complete truth. Guy did plan on stopping by to see Luke soon, but he technically didn't _have _to. Still, Luke's room_ would _make an excellent refuge. "So, uh, I'll be going now."

"No, Guy, stay!" On the last word, the maids made a dash for him, and Guy -- putting every ounce of speed he'd gained over the years to good use -- turned and bolted in the opposite direction.

The laughter of the maids followed him as he rounded a corner and burst through a door, throwing himself out into the courtyard. It was a beautiful day; the sun was hot and high in the sky, set against a deep blue sky and white clouds. Guy allowed himself to relish this fact only once he was in the center of the courtyard, turning so that he could face the doorway he'd just run through. The maids followed him to the doorway, but not beyond, each one smiling in the face of his fear.

"We'll let you get away _this _time, but we'll get a kiss from you one of these days!" Guy grinned sheepishly in response, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'll, ah -- I'll see you later, ladies." He grimaced as his words caused the girls to shriek with laughter, winking at him and blowing kisses before they turned to head back into the manor. From across the courtyard, tending to his flowers as always, Pere called:

"You really shouldn't lead them on. They'll start to believe you're serious."

"It's not like I'm _trying _to lead them on. It just _happens._" Guy crossed the courtyard, walking over to join Pere by the flowers, shaking his head. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Being nice to a lady who's smitten with you can easily be construed by her to be flirting."

"Yeah, well . . ." Guy sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "So long as I run fast enough I should be okay. Hopefully. If anything, Luke can bail me out, right?" Pere gave Guy a look that suggested he doubted that Luke would be of any help, and Guy rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Pere. He's not _that _bad. He'd help me out if I was in a tight spot."

"I never said a thing, Guy." Pere finished tending the flowers in the current pot, and moved on to the next, glancing once over at Guy. "Are you on your way to see Master Luke now?"

Guy nodded. "I told the maids that I would, so I might as well check in and see if he's there. He's probably going stir-crazy by this point, anyway." Guy chuckled. "I swear, it's like if he doesn't have something to occupy every second of his time he loses his head. Luckily, I can usually find _some _way to keep him occupied, even if it's been taking longer each day."

Pere smiled. "He's lucky he has you."

Guy grinned. "Damn straight. Anyway, I'm going to go see if I can find him. Talk to you later, Pere." Pere raised one hand to wave in response and Guy turned, jogging around the main building so that he could make it to Luke's window. After all, it wasn't like he wanted to have another run-in with the maids by going into the manor, and in the broad daylight it was much too risky to walk straight up to Luke's bedroom door and walk in.

As per usual, Luke's window was unlocked, so all Guy had to do was swing the window open and hop onto the ledge. As he did, however, he caught sight of Luke crouched on the floor, one hand clutching his red hair, his face contorted in pain.

"Luke!" Guy called sharply, pulling himself completely onto the ledge and preparing to jump down into the room. "What is it? Not another one of those headaches?"

"Guy . . . is that you?" Luke choked out, shakily pushing himself to his feet. He shook his head a couple times, like he was trying to clear it, but some of the pain remained visible in his green eyes. ". . . It's okay. It's gone."

Guy sincerely doubted that the pain was entirely gone -- if it was, Luke wouldn't still be wincing -- but he let that particular matter drop, instead noting how Luke still rubbed at his ear, appearing distracted by it. "You hearing things again?"

Luke didn't answer directly, instead putting one hand on his hip and canting his weight to the side, his expression one of petulant frustration. "I wish I knew what the hell it was," he groused. "It's so annoying."

"They're getting more frequent," Guy muttered, turning to look out of the window. "They said it was just post-traumatic stress from your kidnapping, but it's been seven years now . . ."

"Yeah. Thanks to Malkuth, now I'm going crazy," Luke grumbled, and Guy looked back over to see that Luke was glaring sullenly at the opposite wall. Hopping down from the ledge, Guy tucked away the thoughts of Luke's headaches for later examination, figuring that a change of subject might be best.

"Well, don't worry about it too much," he said, and then tried to make his voice sound more cheerful. "So, what do you want to do today? How about some sword practice?"

As was typical for temperamental Luke, his mood seemed to vanish in a flash, his scowl replaced by a grin. "Sorry, not today!" he said brightly. "Master Van's here." As quickly as Luke's smile had appeared, Guy's faded, replaced by confusion.

"Van?" he asked, and Luke nodded. "But today's not a training day, is it?"

Luke shrugged. "Apparently, something came up." Before he could say anything more, two knocks sounded from Luke's door, and Luke rolled his eyes as he turned to look, a maid calling through the thick wood.

"Master Luke? May I come in?"

"Uh-oh." Guy turned, bounding over and up onto the window ledge, glancing back over his shoulder at Luke. "You know I can't let anyone see me here. I'm out of here before I get caught. See ya!" Guy raised two fingers to snap a salute, and Luke waved, heaving a sigh.

"Yeah. See you later." Guy hopped out of the window, but from his place just below it, he heard the maid knock again.

"Master Luke?"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you!" Guy chuckled at Luke's irritable response, but didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. It really wasn't his business, and besides, he had more important things to do: like find out why Van had decided to stop by the Fabre manor.

It wasn't that Guy thought Van was up to anything suspicious. If there anyone besides Pere and Luke that Guy could trust, it was Van. But still, it didn't mean that Van suddenly appearing at the manor on a random training day wasn't odd. _Something _was up; Guy just had to find out whether it had to do with the plans to resurrect Hod or not.

Guy doubled back around to the courtyard to see if Van was there, waiting to train Luke. Whether it was a training day or not, if Van was at the manor, odds are he would end up training Luke. There was no way Luke would let him train otherwise. As it turned out, Van wasn't there, but Pere was packing up his gardening supplies and he looked over at Guy with surprised eyes.

"Did Master Luke not wish to see you?"

"Apparently, Van's here." Pere looked just as shocked by the news as Guy himself had felt, and Guy furrowed his brow, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked over to match stride with Pere. "I take it you haven't seen him?"

"No, not at all . . ." Pere trailed off, looking thoughtfully at his feet. "I wonder why he's here today of all days? It isn't one of Master Luke's training days, is it?"

Guy shook his head. "Nope. I have no idea why Van's here, but I wonder . . . I wonder if it has something to do with you-know-what." Pere looked sharply at Guy, and Guy looked over to meet Pere's gaze. Pere was getting on in years, and he was one of the gentlest people Guy knew, but sometimes his gaze was as sharp as a sword in the hands of a trained assassin, striking Guy down to his core.

"And if it does?"

"If it does what?"

"I have been thinking about this for some time now," Pere began, speaking slowly as they entered the manor. Choosing his words carefully, no doubt. They couldn't risk the wrong thing being heard. "We have lived in this manor for many years now. I realize that Van still wishes to pursue his ideals, and seeing our home again would be a wonderful thing. However--"

"Guy! You came back to see us after all!"

"Oh, no," Guy mumbled, turning to see two brunette maids heading right toward them. Pere's words had been cut off, and in Guy's opinion, in the worst way possible. He'd known that going back into the manor was risky, but in-between looking for Van and talking to Pere, he'd completely forgotten. "Pere," Guy whispered, "save yourself."

Pere chuckled, though Guy didn't see how he could possibly find humor in the situation. "We are near enough to our quarters that you could come with me, if you moved quickly enough," Pere said, but Guy -- backing away from the two maids -- practically already had his back against a wall, in a corner.

"If you have any ideas of how to call them off, now would be a great--oh, hi, ladies." Guy couldn't help that his voice hiked up an octave, and when he glanced to his right, he saw that Pere was walking back into his room. So much for Pere criticizing Luke earlier -- it seemed as if Pere wasn't willing to help him out, either.

"Hiiiii, Guuuuy," one of the girls cooed, and the other burst out giggling.

"Ooh, Lucy, that rhymed!"

"I know! Wasn't it cute?" Lucy leaned forward, and Guy pressed himself as tightly against the wall as he could, his heart hammering, his body starting to shake. He would have preferred if the girls were two fire-breathing dragons, or bloodthirsty demons, or barbaric savages, or _anything_, really, than two giggling _females_. "What do _you _think, Guy?" Lucy asked, looking at him from under her long lashes. "Wasn't it adorable?"

"I - I . . ." Guy tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry, and he looked around for any possible route of escape -- any at all. His desperation caused him to nearly cry out in relief as he caught sight of a mop of red hair entering from the end of the hall. "Luke!" he called, and the relief that flooded him when Luke looked over caused him to nearly melt. "Do something! Please!"

"Oh, Guy, you're such a joker!" the other maid said, reaching out to swat Guy's arm playfully. Guy flinched. "You're going to go out with me later, right?"

"No," Guy said hastily, but his fear made his voice sound weak and not all that certain. "Look, I've already told you, I can't really . . . I mean . . ."

Lucy shook her head, clicking her tongue. "Honestly, if you keep acting like that, you'll never get over your fear of women." Guy swore in that moment that Lucy sounded almost like Natalia, which made the situation ten times worse. "So just go out with us. One little date, that's all we ask!" She leaned closer, and Guy shrank farther back against the wall, though it wasn't budging. "Please?"

"All right, all right, that's enough! Don't you two have jobs to do?" Luke asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go and do them already and leave Guy alone."

"Aww. Master Luke, you spoil our fun." Lucy stamped her foot and pushed her lips out in a pout, but Luke pointed toward the door at the far end of the hall, raising his eyebrows.

"I said go!"

The maids turned back to give Guy one last look, promised, "Don't worry Guy, we'll see you later!" and then turned to head back down the hall, whispering between them as soon as they thought they were out of earshot. Guy relaxed as they walked away from him, nearly melting against the wall, and gave Luke a grateful smile. "Thanks, Luke. I knew you'd come through for me."

"You're just lucky I was passing through, and that they gave up so quickly. I don't really have time to stick around." Luke had already started off again, and Guy fell into step beside him, slipping his hands into his pockets again.

"The maid tell you that you were summoned somewhere?"

"Yep. I have to go to the drawing room as per Father's request." Guy looked away, furrowing his brow speculatively.

"Duke Fabre, huh . . ." From Van suddenly appearing to Duke Fabre summoning Luke, it was definitely turning out to be a strange day. Duke Fabre spent most of his time pretending Luke didn't exist, or so it seemed; it was strange that he wanted to see him so suddenly. "I bet this is related to Van being here, whatever that reason is. Something tells me you're going to find out during this little meeting."

"Maybe." Luke shrugged, and reached up to put his hands behind his head as he walked. "But so long as he trains me, I don't really care all that much."

Guy chuckled, shaking his head. "Aw, c'mon, don't be like that. You know you care about Van."

"Well, yeah, I _do_, but I mean, besides train me, what else is there for him to do?"

"He's the Commandant of the Order of Lorelei. There's _plenty _for him to do."

"Yeah, yeah." Luke waved off Guy's words as they reached the drawing room, pushing the door open. "I have to go now. I'll see you later."

"All right. See you." As Luke opened the door, Guy took the opportunity to steal a quick glance in, and managed to catch sight of Van sitting at the long table. Guy still had no idea what the meeting was about, of course, but he at least had his suspicions confirmed, and he had a feeling that if he was right about that, he would also be right about Van training Luke later. Turning on his heel, Guy made his way quickly back to the courtyard, aiming to wait there all day if he had to. One way or another, he _would _talk to Van.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait all day. The meeting lasted all of about fifteen minutes, and Van came striding into the courtyard not long after. Guy, having taken a seat dead center, stood to meet Van as the older swordsman came over, raising an eyebrow.

"Strange seeing you here," Guy greeted, nodding once in Van's direction. "Today's not an ordinary training day. What brings you by?"

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see that you've come out to meet me," Van said instead, and Guy kept his expression neutral, not showing any reaction to Van dodging the question. "No doubt Luke informed you of my presence."

"Yeah, he did." Guy waited a few beats, and then asked, "So, about why you're here--"

"I have to return to Daath," Van interrupted, and Guy's eyes widened slightly. "Fon Master Ion has gone missing, and I must join in the search to rescue him. I came to inform both Duke Fabre and Luke."

Guy winced a little, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "Something tells me Luke didn't take that news too well." Van chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head.

"No, he did not, but I promised to train him today to make up for it." Guy cracked a grin, canting his weight to one side.

"Make sure to wear him out plenty, yeah? That way I don't have to deal with the fallout of this news later. That is, unless you're planning to come back any time soon."

"I don't believe I'll be returning in the near future, no." Van's voice was so grave that it caused the grin to fade from Guy's face, and he eyed Van more closely. Van hadn't quite met Guy's eyes since coming out to the courtyard, and was instead looking off at another part of the manor. There was also something strangely formal about his tone -- something business-like and almost cold that gave Guy pause. "The Oracle Knights are stretched to their limits searching for Fon Master Ion. The God-Generals are currently all deployed as well. We have no idea of where Fon Master Ion could possibly be, which means that all of our energies and efforts must go toward finding him. Unfortunately, I don't foresee this to be an easy task, given the amount of land that we must cover and the lack of manpower we currently have."

"I see," Guy answered, frowning. "Sounds like the Oracle Knights have it pretty rough."

Van started to walk past Guy, his eyes still distant, his countenance still strictly formal. "I'll have to leave everything to you for the time being," he said, and Guy tensed, realizing suddenly what Van was thinking -- and talking -- about. "The Duke, the King, and Luke's--"

"Ah, Master Luke!" Pere's voice cut off Van, and Guy thanked his lucky stars that -- unless it came to women -- he wasn't the type of person to get startled easily. Keeping a game face on Guy turned, watching as Luke headed out to meet them in the center of the courtyard, confused suspicion written plainly all over his face.

"Guy? What's up?"

"Well," Guy said, thinking fast, "Van's a master swordsman, so I thought I'd ask for a little instruction." It wasn't the best lie in the world, and Guy knew it. He wasn't surprised when Luke gave him a dubious look, coming to a stop right in front of him.

"Really? That's not what it looked like to me."

"Well, it is rather hard to read lips from a distance, isn't it?" Van answered, saving Guy the trouble of pushing the lie further. Luke didn't seem to be _too _mad or suspicious, so Guy didn't think that the lie would have been too hard to push, but even so, he was glad to have been spared the trouble. "Now, why don't you go take your starting position so we can begin your training?"

Guy knew that Luke could be obstinate. It was even one of Luke's defining character traits. But Luke _never _disobeyed or ignored Van -- never showed Van anything but the utmost respect. Now, however, he showed no reaction to Van's words at all; instead, he winced a little as if in pain, his green eyes becoming glassy as one hand reached up to touch his head near his ear. Guy frowned, remembering Luke's headache from earlier. "Luke?" he prompted, but when Luke showed no sign of reacting, Guy reached out to touch his shoulder. Van's voice, loud and sharp, interrupted him before he could.

"Luke! Did you not hear me?!"

Luke seemed to snap out of his daze, shaking his head as if trying to clear fog from it. "Huh?" His eyes widened suddenly, and then his lips quirked in a sheepish grin. "Oh, right!" Turning, Luke ran over to take his position, one hand already reaching for the practice sword at his waist. Van smirked, one hand reaching for his own blade. Guy always thought it was somewhat dangerous for Van to use his actual sword while Luke only used a wooden one, but it wasn't as if it was his place to criticize Van's methods. Van knew what he was doing, and besides, Luke would never hear of anything Van did being criticized.

"Are you ready?" Van asked, and Luke nodded once, snapping one hand in to a sharp salute.

"Yes, sir!"

Ordinarily, Guy would have just wandered off to do his own thing. Luke's practice sessions were never overly exciting, and Luke hated to be monitored like a child. But even though he said he was ready, he still looked somewhat distracted by something, and with two (well, possibly two) headaches in one day, Guy wasn't going to wander away from the courtyard. Instead, he walked over to take a seat on one of the benches, making himself comfortable before calling, "I guess I'll just watch from over here. Let's see what you've got, Luke."

Luke waved Guy off impatiently, and even from his distance Guy could see him roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

Though Guy tried to keep on an eye on Luke, he found that he couldn't concentrate completely -- not when the most exciting thing to happen for the first ten minutes was Luke having impromptu meetings with the ground after every few swings. It was clear that Van wasn't really trying; he was instructing and guiding Luke, teaching him new techniques, but although Luke was giving it his all, Van kept easily throwing him down to the ground. Every now and then, Guy would catch a snippet of Van's instruction ("You need to _block_, Luke -- defense is just as important as offense"), but for the most part he tuned them out, looking at them, but not really watching what they were doing. It wasn't until their training abruptly stopped that Guy felt his attention snap fully to them -- well, to them, and to a melodic voice drifting from the direction of the manor.

"What's that?" Luke demanded, reaching one hand up to his ear again. Guy stood up, about to go over, when he noticed Van fall to his knees.

"That voice . . .!" Van grunted, and as he spoke, Guy felt himself sway, and had to drop to his knees himself to stay up, bracing himself on the bench. The voice was getting louder, but Guy couldn't understand the words that were being sung -- could barely concentrate on them for the dizziness that suddenly gripped him.

"I . . . I can't move!" Luke sounded near to panic, and Guy forced himself up, stumbling a few steps forward in an attempt to reach him. It was no use; Guy slumped against one of the columns, his eyes refusing to stay open, his head dropping down to his chest.

"That's a fonic hymn!" Guy heard Pere gasp from somewhere behind him. _Wasn't Pere by the flower beds? _Guy thought, and shook his head, feeling sluggish. _Yeah . . . That's where he is. _"Has a Seventh Fonist invaded the manor?!"

"Damn it . . ." Guy mumbled, his words slurred with fatigue. "It's putting me to sleep . . . What the hell are the guards doing?"

Guy didn't notice when his eyes closed until he needed to open them again, at the sound of the song finally ending and another voice -- the same voice, he realized, as the fog surrounding his brain began to clear -- spoke, clear and strong in the courtyard.

"I've finally found you, Vandesdelca." The voice belonged to a girl standing behind Van, a knife gripped in one hand, a sharp-pointed staff in the other. Guy was positive that he had never seen her before in his life, but all the same, there was something familiar about her. "Prepare to die, traitor!"

Guy watched, his body still weighed down by the hymn, as the girl rushed forward. At first, he honestly thought she was going to get the jump on Van -- that Van was still too out of it to react -- and he opened his mouth to try and shout a warning. It proved to be unnecessary; Van spun and dodged her attack, staying low to the ground, but appearing alert all the same.

"Tear! I knew it!" Van stood quickly, lashing out at the girl -- Tear, Guy assumed -- with his practice sword, but she jumped out of the way, landing right in front of Luke. Guy pushed himself away from the banister, reaching for his own sword, though he still felt shaky on his feet. _No, focus Guy, wake up. Whoever she is, she's dangerous, and it's not like he's in any position to protect himself . . ._

"Who the hell are you?!" Luke demanded, and Guy almost groaned. If there was one thing he wanted Luke to do at the moment, it was not draw attention to himself, but Luke never was the type to take a hint and stay quiet. Instead, he stood up, reaching for his practice sword again. Guy's eyes widened, and he tried to call out to Luke to stop, but found that he was still too out of it to get his mouth to cooperate with his brain. _Damn it, Luke, sto--wait, is he glowing?_

Guy didn't know if it was the after-effect of the fonic hymn or not -- maybe he'd actually fallen asleep without realizing it -- but Luke seemed to be actually _glowing_, radiating with light. Guy tore his eyes away from Luke for a second to look at Van, who actually looked _panicked _for once -- and that was something Guy thought he would never see. "No!" Van shouted. "Stop!"

But it was far too late.

Tear turned at the exact moment that Luke swung with his sword, her staff blocking his wooden blade. In the exact second that their weapons connected, a metallic _ring _resounded through the courtyard, the light that was engulfing Luke spreading to wrap around Tear as well, sparking brightly around their connected weapons. For a moment, Guy was too stunned to react, his eyes practically burning as he tried to see through the light to make out the forms of Luke and Tear. Luke seemed to be paralyzed, unable to move at all, and it was that which forced Guy to start moving forward, aiming to pull Luke out of whatever he'd gotten himself stuck in.

"Not that weird voice again . . . !" Luke hissed.

"The Seventh Fonon?!" Tear cried, and at her words the light intensified sharply, swelling around them. Guy stopped short of reaching them and lifted one arm, shielding his eyes from the suddenly intense light -- but shielding his eyes did nothing to shield his ears, and he heard Luke and Tear both scream in pain as a gust of wind and light swept up the courtyard.

"Luke!" Guy forced himself forward, light be damned, but it was too late. By the time he got to the center of the courtyard, the last few specks of light were already fading, leaving not a trace of either Luke or Tear in sight. Van rose to his feet as well, looking up at the last tendrils of light that fluttered down from the deep blue sky, his eyes just as wide as Guy's.

"Too late . . ." he said, sounding completely floored. "The Seventh Fonons have reacted with each other!"

Guy didn't react at first. He was staring at the spot where Luke had stood -- at the spot where Luke had disappeared. Completely vanished. Gone without a trace, and with a girl who'd been trying to kill Van just seconds before -- who might have gone after Luke, if she blamed him for what happened. His mind clicking several things together quickly, Guy spun to face Van, his voice harsher than he meant to be.

"What do you mean the Seventh Fonons reacted with each other?! What the hell just happened, and who was that girl who just tried to kill you?!"

"Calm down, Gailardia." Van sheathed his practice sword, looking back down to Guy at last, though Guy had no intention of calming down as Van requested. "She won't hurt him."

"How do you know that?" Guy demanded. "She just tried to _kill _you, Van. How do you know she won't hurt Luke? And you didn't answer the other questions, either!"

"I know because she isn't a killer. She's a soldier, yes, but not a killer." A thin smile found its way to Van's lips, and he continued before Guy could interrupt. "Her name is Mystearica -- Tear -- Grants. She's my younger sister."

"Your sister?" Guy blinked, his anger momentarily forgotten. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"Most people don't, because it isn't information that's really relevant to day-to-day activities. Nonetheless, I do, and she seems to be rather mistaken about something. Whatever she is mistaken about, however, she will not harm Luke. I promise you that."

The information mollified Guy, if only a little, and he looked back to the point where Luke had disappeared. "That doesn't mean Luke won't get himself into trouble some other way," he muttered, before speaking louder. "But what happened? You said something about Seventh Fonons, and I heard Pere mention a Seventh Fonist earlier." Guy looked over to the flower beds, watching as Pere headed back inside the manor -- either to rest or to alert the guards of what had happened to Luke. Guy wasn't really sure which. "I'm guessing the Seventh Fonist was Tear, but what about Luke could have triggered . . . whatever that was that we just saw?"

"That was hyperresonance, caused when Seventh Fonons react against one another," Van explained. "It appears as though Luke is a Seventh Fonist as well."

"What?" Guy's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "That's impossible. Luke barely knows what fonons _are_, much less how to manipulate them."

"Then he must have done so accidentally. There is no other explanation for the sudden hyperresonance that occurred here."

"I . . . I see." Guy frowned, turning once more to the spot where Luke had stood. It felt surreal; to think that Luke had been standing there just a few minutes prior, and was now _gone _with a mysterious assassin -- Van's sister, Guy corrected himself -- to Yulia knew where. Van claimed that Tear wouldn't hurt Luke, and Guy wasn't one to call Van a liar, but that didn't change the fact that Luke was _gone._ He wasn't even supposed to leave the manor, and now they had no idea where he was. And it had happened right in front of Guy's eyes.

"_Well, it's my job to take care of you, Luke, and I say nothing bad's going to happen to you so long as I'm around. . . . Promise."_

Well, Guy had screwed up that promise, hadn't he?

"I will go inform the Duke and Duchess about what has happened," Van said, breaking Guy from his thoughts. Guy walked over to match Van's stride as Van began to head back to the manor. "They will want to mobilize a search party, I'm sure, just as they did seven years ago."

"There's no need for that," Guy said, fists clenched at his sides. "You can tell Duke Fabre what happened, but you can also tell him that he doesn't have to send out a search party for Luke."

"Oh?" Guy had the feeling that Van was looking at him, but Guy didn't look at Van to confirm his thoughts. Instead, he merely pulled open the door to the manor, stepping in ahead of Van and turning to head toward his room. "Why not?"

"Because I'm going to find Luke." Guy didn't look back as he spoke, nor did he speak with any hesitation. "It's my job to look after him. Since he was taken away under my watch, I'm going to fix that mistake and find him myself. Mark my words, he _will _make it back to this manor in one piece, with every memory intact."

"Do you truly believe that you can find him on your own?" Van's words stopped Guy short, and Guy turned back to see that Van was watching him with something of an amused smile. "You have no idea where they've gone."

"Doesn't matter," Guy answered immediately. "I'll find him." As Van began to chuckle, Guy's brow furrowed, and he felt impatience coil in his gut. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. You're just very determined, is all." Van continued to smirk. "It looked as though the hyperresonance shot in the direction of Tartaroo Valley. I would recommend starting there, if anywhere."

Guy stood still, surprised by the sudden information, for a minute before he smiled. "Thanks, Van," he said. "If you happen to find Luke before I do, grab him for me, will you? While you're searching for Ion, I mean."

"Will do." Van turned away. "I will go speak with the Duke and Duchess now. Don't be surprised if they request to see you before you depart."

"I'll be ready." Raising one hand in a farewell wave to Van, Guy turned and headed back to his room.

* * *

After gathering all the necessary provisions he would need, speaking with the Duke and Duchess Fabre, and saying goodbye to Pere, Guy set off.

Truth be told, he didn't really know where he was going, except for in the direction that Van had pointed out. Guy had a feeling that even if Luke _was _there, he was going to be gone by the time Guy arrived. Luke was never one for sitting still, and his curiosity often got the better of him; to be randomly thrown out into the world after spending seven years locked in a manor was going to be tough, but not even to satiate Luke's desire to explore. Oh, sure, Luke might be irritated that he was just thrown into a situation like that, but that didn't mean that he'd just sit in one place forever. Even if that would make things easier on Guy, that was simply not the way that Luke operated.

That is, if he was okay. Guy kept telling himself that Luke was fine, but that didn't mean that he necessarily was, and deep down, Guy knew that.

_Well, if he's not okay _now_, then he will be when I get a hold of him, _Guy told himself. _Since his journal wasn't in his room, Luke must have had it on him, which means that he'll at least have a way to trigger his memories if he's lost any. Then again, it's weird that he had his journal on him, anyway . . . I'll have to remember to ask him about that when I find him, which I will. _Guy nodded once, believing his words more and more each time he spoke or thought them, and left the gates of Baticul completely, stepping out into the plains of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear. _Hang tight, Luke. I'll be there soon._


End file.
